A Tamia's Tale, first book: Omen of Death

“Of all the times for me to be crippled…” Daji cursed under her breath. The goddess was lying on her bed, inside her temple at the top of the highest mountain on the continent. The blow that had been dealt on the leyline was far worse than she thought, and the voices of countless lives silenced in an instant still haunted her mind. And, powerless, she couldn’t hold Luka back from investigating what was happening there.

From afar, using a scrying spell, she was able to witness the movements in Sora. And the situation couldn’t be more dire. The capital was now being invaded by the Empire at surprising speed and the young man Viktor had been mercilessly killed by Yelena. But what lurked behind it all was far more sinister than any pitiful squabble between humans.

It all made sense now. The blow on the leyline to get her out of the way wasn’t at the advantage of either Sora or the Empire, but to a third faction that had been waiting to make their move all this time.

“He is back…” she whispered, a hollow pain clutching her chest. She had been waiting for two years on edge to see if he were to make his move and the moment she wasn’t there…

The liberator had returned.

“Stop running, Luka!” Saki shouted after the young man who had darted out of the carriage. He had seen it: lightning falling down from the sky right behind the castle.

“But Kenshin is here!” he gritted his teeth. Kanami was in danger, and even though he understood the risks—just as his master had warned—his instincts screamed for him to move.

The moment he witnessed the explosion, the walls of the city obliterated by a single spell, he could no longer deny the truth within himself.

Even though he was deeply afraid, even though he wanted to detach himself the most from others in this foreign world to avoid being sad once the parting had come, he knew he was lying to himself.

He cared. He cared deeply for them. Even if he almost died multiple times, even if sometimes they treated him like trash or were suspicious of him, they gave him a roof above his head, food, and companionship in the hardest times of his life. He couldn’t deny it, even if his rational mind told him it was suicide and useless, he knew deep down…

That’s what he wanted.

“I won’t leave this place with everything in tatters…” he whispered to himself, true words spilling out from his heart. After all, this was still a magical adventure, as unwanted as it was. He wanted good memories out of it, and perhaps, deep in his mind, he had thought multiple times of ways to come back here.

Yes, he wanted to go away and return home where he belonged. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care about the people here.

As he reached the edge of the city, the air crackled with energy, and the smell of smoke filled his nostrils. The cries of the people running away, the clash of swords ringing in the streets, the thunderous hammer of the soldier’s boots echoing on the paved ground, everything assaulted his senses. Still, his mind was as clear as water.

He passed through the front gate, amidst the fighting. The soldiers of the Empire were easily recognizable. A white armor with fur protruding from the shoulder pads, a light glow surrounding their bodies as if enhanced with magical energy, helmets adorned with white horns, and blades made of steel engraved with runes.

Luka swallowed hard, acutely aware that each of these warriors possessed enough power to easily overwhelm him. He scanned the streets to make sense of the situation. Most of the citizens had evacuated towards the castle, the guards forming barricades along the main road to try and push back the attack.

But the casualties were immense. There were more Eran guard’s corpses on the ground than anything else. And while the city was immense, Luka knew Sora’s army was far from big. Still, there were far fewer people than he imagined.

Where were the soldiers of the army? Why were there only guards here?

“What the hell are the soldiers doing?” Luka asked himself, his eyes darting around the battlefield. The soldiers he had seen in Kaathal or in the castle were far better equipped than the guards, so where were they?

He forced himself to focus, pushing through the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Luka had to find Kanami, but he also needed information. He spotted a cluster of guards trying to form a defensive line against the Empire's relentless advance. They fought valiantly, but it was clear they were outmatched, the soldiers of the Empire pressing in with unyielding ferocity.

“Hey!” Luka shouted, rushing toward the nearest guard. The man was drenched in sweat and blood, his sword trembling in his grasp. “What’s happening? Where are the rest of the soldiers?”

The guard turned to him, eyes with disbelief. “Who are you?” he demanded, clearly taken aback by the sight of a civilian wearing weird clothes in the thick of battle. “Go towards the castle!”

“Never mind that! Just tell me where the soldiers are!” Luka insisted.

“The army is… They’ve betrayed us!” the guard replied, his voice rising in panic.

Luka's heart raced at the guard's words, a chill running down his spine. "Betrayed? What do you mean?" he asked.

Another one approached, clutching his bleeding arm. “We thought we could trust our forces, but Safaran has sold us out to the Empire! He’s promised them the city in exchange for power, and now—”

“Now we’re fighting on our own!” the first guard finished, his voice trembling. “They’ve turned on us. We’re outnumbered and outmatched!”

“Fuck!” Luka shouted in frustration. He knew Safaran was rich but to the point of buying out the army? That sneaky bastard!

“Don’t falter!” A booming voice echoed from behind. It was Jason Borone’s voice, instructing the guards to hold the line. The big man was in the middle of the melee, sending enemy soldiers left and right packing with his bare fists. “We need to hold the line until I say so!”

Still, Luka was useless here. To get through the castle, he had to push through the melee and reach the other side’s barricades. The enemy soldiers were being taken in a pincer attack, but even then it didn’t suffice.

“Luka!” Saki’s voice stirred him up from his thoughts. She rushed to his side, looking distraught. “Stop it, it’s dangerous here!”

“What do you propose then?” Luka asked, his brown eyes shining with determination.

The succubus sighed, knowing she couldn’t hold him back anymore. “I hate it when humans fight. I would love to stop it too but that’s not possible, we both know that…” she pleaded.

“Still, Kanami, Morgann, Uther, they’re all in big trouble…” Luka sighed, not knowing what to do anymore.

“So now you care?” she asked smugly with a teasing grin.

“What,” Luka pouted. “I can care too sometimes…”

Saki put a hand on her hip, smiling at him with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “You’re impossible.” With a sigh, she gave him a light smack on the head. “Then go, you idiot,” she whispered, her tone softening. “After what you did back in that village, I know you can make a difference here.”

Her expression shifted, concern flickering in her eyes. “But seriously, Luka… don’t do anything stupid, okay? Don’t die.” There was an unspoken worry in her voice, and the usual playfulness in her gaze had dimmed.

Luka's heart swelled with a strange sense of relief at Saki's words. “I don’t want to, don’t worry,” he said, though his voice trembled slightly. He took a deep breath and turned toward the battlefield. Almost immediately, a plan formed in his head—reckless, but it just might work.

“Saki, you can fly, right?” he asked, his gaze shifting toward the rooftops.

The succubus raised an eyebrow. “Not in that form but otherwise yes. Why?”

“I’m counting on you!” Luka shouted before charging headfirst into the melee.

“Hey! What do you mean by that?!” Saki shot back, her eyes widening with alarm.

Luka didn’t answer; he was already deep in the thick of it. “Svelto!” Using the reinforcement spell on his legs, he darted past the enemy soldiers, using the confusion to his advantage. The sound of clashing steel and the cries of the wounded filled the air, but Luka’s mind was set on a single goal. He needed to get to that rooftop and jump above the fighting. Avoiding narrowly multiple swords with a glide, he sprung back up to leap onto the lower roof of a nearby house.

Without hesitation, Luka leaped into the air, the ground dropping far beneath his feet. “Saki! You’re up!” he shouted, his body hurtling downward.

Saki’s voice echoed from behind, “You reckless idiot!” Her wings snapped open as she dove toward him. Her appearance had shifted dramatically; though she still wore her usual attire—a skirt and a revealing crop top—her form now exuded a palpable aura of magic. A thin, whip-like tail extended from her back, flicking in the air as her black bat-like wings beat with powerful strokes.

As Luka plummeted, Saki swooped in with incredible speed, catching him mid-air. Her arms wrapped firmly below his arms as her wings strained to keep them both aloft “I swear, you could at least warn me!” she grumbled, her breath coming in quick puffs.

“I trusted you,” Luka said, looking up at her.

“Right,” she shot back, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Where do I drop you?”

“Right behind the castle!”

With a powerful beat of her tiny wings, she soared higher, angling toward the castle. The wind whipped past them as they glided over the chaotic battlefield below.

Luka glanced down at the scene unfolding beneath them, his heart pounding. The Empire’s forces seem disorganized yet fierce and strong, relying on individual strength rather than coordination. Still, Jason seemed to crush them like insects while the guards struggled to hold the line.

“Whoa…” Luka let out a shaky breath. “Knights of Sora are no joke…”

“Yup!” Saki beamed a smile. “They’re the strongest on this earth, at least from what I’ve seen.”

Luka's expression turned serious as he surveyed the chaos below. "Yeah, but even the strongest knights can't hold off an entire army forever,” he said, his voice steady despite the tension coiling in his gut. "We need to find out where Safaran is. If he's really behind this, taking him down could turn the tide. The soldiers need to know there’s no guarantee of a reward anymore."

“Pff,” Saki pouted. “If Wrimbo had been there, the Empire would’ve been destroyed already, but I get you.”

“Wait, you knew him too?” Luka asked, shocked.

“Nope! But I’m a fan,” she smiled.

Luka rolled his eyes at Saki’s casual attitude, but he couldn’t help a small grin. “He’s dead though, Saki. So unless he’s about to rise from the grave and save us all, we’re on our own.”

“Right,” Saki said, her tone shifting back to seriousness. “I’m putting you down.” With a powerful flap of her wings, she surged upward and then dove down in a controlled arc, aiming for a narrow ledge just beneath one of the castle’s parapets. “Brace yourself!” she shouted.

The moment Luka's feet hit the stone, he stumbled forward, catching himself on one knee. He looked up to see Saki hovering above him, her eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do?”

“I will check something,” she said, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

Check something? Somehow, Luka noticed a shift in her attitude.

“Did you sense something unusual with your powers or something?” He asked, intrigued.

“I hope not,” she flat-out said. “Otherwise I’m picking you up and we get out of here.” With that, she flew away, leaving Luka alone in front of the familiar woods.

Where everything began, where he met his first friend here.

Lightning echoed from the woods in front of him, they were still fighting.

“Hang in there, Kanami…”

“It is time,” Safaran sighed watching intently his pocket watch tied to his belt. The fighting had already begun, and it was a matter of time until the Emperor made its way inside the castle.

“Wait… There is someone there,” Julius said, squinting as he peered past the trees, instinctively bracing himself for whatever might emerge.

Steps approached, rustling the grass beneath them. “Who goes there?” the assassin shouted, his arm raised in defense as he positioned himself protectively in front of Safaran.

Emerging from the shadows was a figure cloaked in deep blue, his presence an enigma against the dimly lit woods. Green eyes sparkled like emeralds, cutting through the gloom as he moved forward, wand gripped firmly in his hand.

“A—Archibald…!” Safaran stammered, recoiling slightly at the sight of his son.

But his son didn’t say a single word, instead, he eyed his old man with contempt, his gaze full of incomprehension and asking for answers.

“Why are you here?” Safaran finally managed, a mix of surprise and apprehension in his voice.

Archibald took a step closer, defiance etched into every line of his face. “I should ask the same,” he replied lowly. “To think you would betray us, the crown, the knights…”

Jason had confirmed it, Safaran had attempted to kill Morgann. Archibald gritted his teeth, never blinking while staring down at his old man.

“Betray?” Safaran echoed, incredulity spilling into his voice. “You don’t understand the bigger picture! This is about securing our future!”

But the young man shook his head, fury bubbling inside him. “No, Father. If you were truly worried about the future, you would’ve talked about it. The knights—”

“Please,” Safaran huffed, cutting him off. “I know how much you hold the knights in admiration, but they are no more. No one can assure the safety of this kingdom anymore,” his voice lowered as he stroked his mustache. “Not against what’s coming.”

“Then why not rally us all together? Unify our strength to prepare for what’s to come?” Archibald shot back, aiming his wand at him in desperation, his voice trembling with emotion. “You murdered our king! My uncle! You made Morgann sad!” The words hung in the air, heavy with a personal weight that transcended the political. This was no longer the discourse of a nobleman but the raw plea of a son to his father.

Safaran’s expression twisted, torn between the anger of a leader and the hurt of a father. “You think you understand the sacrifices I’ve made? You think I would have done it if I had a choice? I did what must be done!”

“That’s enough,” Julius interrupted, his arm still raised to protect his lord. The urgency in his voice cut through the tension. “The time is now, my lord. We cannot afford this distraction. The Emperor is approaching, and we need to act.”

“Act?” Archibald asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you planning to do?”

“It’s none of your business, my son. It’s—”

A sudden thundery roar echoed near them, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Without warning, massive trees were uprooted, sent crashing toward their direction like missiles launched from a catapult.

“Look out!” Julius shouted, instinctively pushing Safaran to the side as he deflected the incoming projectiles with brute strength.

Archibald, quick on his feet, dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the debris. He scrambled to his feet as soon as it was over, his heart racing. “What was that?” He looked around, trying to spot the source of the sudden explosion.

All of a sudden, they saw two figures darting at incredible speed right in front of them, clashing sword and spear in a blur, like a whirlwind.

“Tch, that damn barbarian,” Julius spat, holding his body low to the ground to avoid any blows that could unintentionally reach him. “Get your fight elsewhere!”

As the two combatants continued their frenetic dance, Archibald caught a glimpse of Kanami, her face straining against each impact of Kenshin’s spear. She was locked in combat with one of the Emperor’s elite warriors, the glint of their weapons flashing like lightning.

“Alright, Ju-Ju!” Kenshin chuckled in between two clashes. And, with a single step, lighting roared once more around the tip of his spear, making Kanami flinch for a second from the blinding light.

In a fraction of a second, he dashed forward, like a swallow diving low to the ground, before clashing directly against Kanami, sending the both of them flying in another direction.

Safaran sighed, wiping his forehead with a napkin already soaked through. “That was close.”

“Kanami!” Archibald shouted, but they were already far away. Even if he wanted to, the fight was too chaotic for him to be useful. Besides, he needed to stop his father and Julius.

Julius helped Safaran to his feet, brushing off debris from his lord’s cloak, but his sharp gaze turned to Archibald, filled with intensity. “Now leave,” he commanded, his voice low but firm. “Otherwise, I can’t promise you won’t get hurt.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Archibald shot back, aiming his wand at them defiantly. “Even you, Father—if you dare continue this madness, I will have to stop you.”

“Stop it, this is useless,” Safaran sighed, exasperation etched in his tone. “Even if you were to stop me, you cannot stop the Emperor from conquering this place. This war is bigger than all of us.”

“You’re right!” Kenshin’s voice boomed suddenly, drawing their attention. The three of them looked up to see him perched nonchalantly on a high branch, his spear resting across his shoulders. “Kid, you really can’t stop the Emperor from conquering this place.”

“What are you doing here?” Julius demanded, his single visible eye narrowing beneath his mask. “Where is the girl you were fighting just a moment ago?”

Kenshin shrugged casually, spinning his spear in one hand. “No clue! One moment she was there, the next—poof! Vanished.” He chuckled as if amused by the sudden disappearance. “She’s a slippery one, I’ll give her that.”

Archibald’s gaze flicked between Kenshin and Julius, his grip on his wand tightening. “You’re all the same—blindly following orders, without a care for who gets trampled underfoot.”

Kenshin tilted his head, grinning down at him. “You’re not wrong. But whose orders are we following, hm?” he said, leaping down from the branch and landing with a thud, dust rising around him.

“I see, it is time…” Julius whispered to himself, his eye narrowing as if he'd come to a resolution.

“Huh?” Archibald’s eyes widened, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Without warning, Julius moved with a speed that defied comprehension, his right arm flashing out like a striking viper. In an instant, his arm had transformed into a weapon, slicing cleanly across his lord’s throat.

“Wha—” Safaran’s eyes bulged with shock, his hands instinctively reaching up to the wound as a deep, jagged cut opened, blood gushing out in torrents. He staggered backward, a look of betrayal and disbelief frozen on his face as he tried to speak, but only a strangled gurgle escaped his lips.

Archibald stood rooted in place, his mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened. “Father…!” he cried out, his voice breaking.

Julius turned to face him, his arm not even stained with a single drop of blood. “You had a choice, Safaran Sora. But you only made poor decisions these past two years,” he said coldly, his tone devoid of emotion.

Suddenly, a shrill laugh echoed behind him, making Archibald’s spine crawl.

“Kekeke… What a clean cut, Julius. You could become a surgeon with those hands of yours…”

Julius huffed dismissively, paying no mind to the grotesque creature's comment. The small, misshapen demon stepping out from his back leered down at Archibald with bulging eyes that gleamed with malicious delight.

“Tch, Kiku. Get off our backs would you?” Kenshin spat, already annoyed by the general’s presence.

Archibald’s hand trembled as he held his wand aloft, his gaze fixated on the demon. “A… A demon!” he stammered, a mix of horror and rage washing over him.

“Precisely!” the creature croaked, stepping out of the shadows. It tapped a ridiculously small cane on the ground as its globular eyes narrowed. “The spell is nearly ready. Keep that Araël’s spawn occupied, Kenshin. She must not discover our true purpose here,” Kiku ordered, a wicked grin stretching across its wrinkled face.

“Of course, of course,” Kenshin replied with a nonchalant wave of his spear. “Don’t worry, Ju-Ju and I can handle things. I’ll keep the girl busy while you work your stupid magic.”

Archibald’s mind raced. The situation had escalated too fast that it felt like a punch to the gut. “What are you planning?” he demanded, taking a step back in hesitation.

Kiku’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with malevolent delight. “A wipeout,” he hissed, his voice dripping with sinister excitement. “This is the perfect opportunity to eliminate both Sora and the Empire in one fell swoop!”

Archibald’s breath caught in his throat. “What?” he uttered, his voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Kiku sneered, his cane tapping rhythmically against the ground. “Your father was a mere pawn, a chess piece in all of this for our great Liberator.”

“You!” Archibald cried, gritting his teeth in anger as he aimed at the small creature. “Esfelto!” he shouted a ball of flame the size of a basketball forming at the tip of his wand.

“I don’t think so.” the small demon, held his cane up, aiming at the mage’s wand. In an instant, the ball of flame was snuffed out in a puff of smoke. Archibald’s eyes widened, his expression one of stunned disbelief.

Kiku’s laughter echoed through the clearing, shrill and mocking. “Don’t try to teach an old monkey how to pull a face, young mage,” he taunted. “Now, go kill the princess, Julius.”

“Right,” Julius replied, bowing slightly before straightening up.

“Why is a human like you helping these monsters?” Archibald cried out, his voice filled with desperation as he tried to appeal to Julius’s humanity. “They’ll turn on you in the end, you know that!”

“Kekeke…” Kiku’s laugh started grating on his nerves. “It’s no use to appeal to that side of him, young mage… This man’s humanity had died long ago,” the creature tapped its cane one last time before turning its back. “Now, I need to go. Take care, Julius.”

“Right,” Julius bowed once more, his expression unreadable as he turned his gaze towards the castle, like a machine set to carry out its orders.

Archibald steeled himself, aiming at Julius once more. Even if he were to die, he would stop them—

But as soon as Kiku turned back, a thick fog enveloped the area, turning the woods into a haunting place all of a sudden. Shadows twisted and danced in the mist, and Archibald felt a chill creeping up his spine. The air grew heavy, pressing down on him as he struggled to maintain his focus.

“What is this?” Archibald whispered, glancing around in panic.

“Just a little distraction,” Kiku’s voice floated through the fog, seemingly coming from all directions.

Growls echoed through the mist, and Archibald could hear footsteps approaching from all sides. A red creature holding a club suddenly emerged from the thick fog, its tongue darting out as it salivated hungrily.

“Demons…!” Archibald cursed under his breath. Not only did he have to stop Julius, but now a horde of demons was pouring from the fog.

His heart raced as more figures began to materialize, grotesque shapes with twisted limbs and menacing grins. The air was thick with their foul stench, and their eyes glowed like embers in the darkness, hungry and predatory.

As soon as Archibald was distracted, Julius dashed forward, ignoring the young mage as he sprinted directly toward the castle.

“Shit–!” Archibald spun around, aiming his wand at Julius. But before he could cast a single spell, something lunged from the thick fog.

“Svelto!” a familiar voice echoed, and a fist flew through the air, connecting squarely with Julius’s face.

The masked man stumbled back, shock evident even through his facade as he turned to confront the newcomer. Archibald squinted through the haze and felt a rush of relief as he recognized the figure. His brown jacket was as recognizable as it was irritating—it was the otherworlder.

“You’re here?” Archibald shouted, momentarily forgetting the demons as a hope he didn’t think of having upon seeing him surged within him.

“Take care of the demons!” Luka cried, staring down at Julius. “I’m taking care of him…”

“You again…” The assassin spoke out with a chilling tone. “I truly made a mistake when I didn’t finish you off.” With a swipe of its hand, the man stood back up while slowly taking a stance with his left arm behind his back. “I shall repair that mistake right away.”

Luka’s expression hardened. He knew this guy wasn’t joking around and, unlike Yelena, was going to be serious from the start. Spreading his legs to get a better footing, Luka slowly exhaled while forming a stance as well. Both of them stared at each other for a while, both assessing each other.

Before Julius broke the distance and leaped forward in a blur, Luka readied his arms and instinctively moved to block the incoming blow. Julius’s fist connected with Luka’s arms, the impact crackling with raw mana.

“Urgh!” Luka grunted, the shock of the punch reverberating through his body as he struggled to withstand Julius’s inhuman strength. The force of the blow sent him flying backward, and he hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact.

Luka quickly regained his footing, using the momentum of the roll to crouch and ready himself for the next attack. He couldn’t afford to be complacent; he had to give everything he had with each blow or else he would die.

The assassin didn’t hesitate. His legs moved in a blur as he closed the distance, the ground beneath him barely registering. Aiming for a kick, he pivoted his body, launching a deadly roundhouse kick aimed directly at Luka’s head.

He barely had time to react. Luka ducked instinctively, feeling the rush of air on his hair as Julius’s foot whooshed overhead. As he dodged, he jumped backward to stand up.

But Julius was once more too quick. Julius regained his footing even faster before unleashing another punch to Luka in his gut.

“Svelt—” He just had the time to reinforce his inner muscles before getting hit, avoiding a fatal blow for the moment. Even with the reinforcement, the sheer force of the punch was overwhelming. Luka felt the breath driven from his lungs as he was launched through the air, crashing through branches and foliage before breaking free of the woods. He landed hard in the castle's garden, skidding across the grass until he finally came to a stop near a decorative stone fountain.

Luka staggered to his feet, his body trembling from the impact. Breathe, dammit, breathe! he urged himself, forcing his lungs to draw in ragged gasps of air. Pain radiated through his ribs with every breath, and his vision blurred momentarily as a trickle of blood dripped down from a gash on his forehead. He swayed unsteadily, struggling to regain his focus as his surroundings spun around him.

In the heat of the moment, he was reminded of something. “Control… Pain, off.” another switch was deactivated inside him and his body grew numb all of a sudden. Yet, slowly, he regained control over his body, his breath regulating to its normal state. With his thumb, he wiped the blood from his brow in a swift movement. His assassin wasn’t going to be late.

And there he was, emerging from the tree line with a calm, elegant stride. Julius’s cold eye fixed on Luka, his mana-infused right arm crackling with power like a chainsaw ready to cut him down.

“For a weak man, you are resilient,” Julius taunted as he approached.

Luka’s eyes narrowed, his eyes turning cold from the numbness in his body. His breathing was now steady and focused as he regained his stance once more.

“Your form is also lacking—” Julius added before dashing forward again. With a slight duck, Luka evaded his right arm. A surge of energy emitted from his arm cut through the stone fountain behind him, making shards of stone fly everywhere.

Luka spun on his heel, twisting his body to stay low as he dodged the spray of debris. He launched himself forward, taking advantage of the brief opening. In a fluid motion, he thrust his palm upward, grabbing Julius’s chin.

The two men hit the ground, their bodies tangled in a vicious struggle as they rolled over the grass. Luka's hand closed around Julius’s chin, and he pressed his thumb against the assassin’s eye, desperately trying to dig it in. But Julius’s grip was ironclad, and his reflexes quick.

With a snarl, Julius seized Luka’s wrists and twisted them with brutal force. Pain shot up Luka’s arms, but the numbness he had activated kept him from being overwhelmed by it. He gritted his teeth, refusing to let go. His fingers clawed at Julius’s face, but the assassin’s strength was too much.

Julius forced Luka’s arms apart and, in a swift motion, drove his knee into Luka’s ribs, the impact hard enough to rattle his entire frame. Luka gasped, his grip slipping away as another Julius launched him at full force through the rear window of the castle.

With a deafening crash, Luka smashed through the window and landed hard on the kitchen table, sending pots, pans, and freshly prepared ingredients flying in all directions. The maid, who had been in the midst of cooking, screamed in shock, dropping the ladle she was holding. Luka rolled off the table, his back hitting the tiled floor with a painful thud.

Fortunately, he had just in time reinforced his back with a spell, making his landing feel less impactful. As he struggled to push himself up, Luka recognized the maid through the haze of pain. “The maid with glasses…” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Her face was pale with fear, her hands trembling as she clutched the kitchen counter for support. “Mister Luka?” she repeated, her voice barely audible, eyes wide with a mix of shock and concern. “What happened to you?”

“Get out,” Luka rasped, forcing himself to his feet. He wobbled slightly but steadied himself eventually. “This place isn’t safe, getaway, now.”

The maid didn’t even question him and started running away. Luka took a glance around the room. There was a lot of kitchenware, perhaps it could be useful to him.

The sound of Julius’s boots crunching on shattered glass reached his ears. Julius stepped through the broken window frame, his movements slow and deliberate, exuding a calm menace that set Luka on edge. His right arm crackled with energy, mana coursing down to his fingertips like arcs of lightning.

But Julius’s steps stopped for an instant, his eye widening. “That look… You’re still not ready to die, are you?” the assassin said in surprise. The man was used to his targets running away after trying to fight him but this weak man in front of him was still standing, gazing at him with focus and determination.

Luka’s eyes narrowed, every muscle in his body tense like a coiled spring. He had no time for Julius’s taunts. With a swift motion, he grabbed a few knives from the counter and hurled them at the assassin in rapid succession, each blade spinning through the air like deadly projectiles.

Julius reacted instantly, his arm deflecting the knives with ease. They clattered to the ground armlessly, and then he shot his fist towards his target. While grabbing a heavy cast-iron saucepan, Luka shielded himself. The assassin’s arm went through but was now lodged inside and blocked by the walls of the pan.

Luka seized the opportunity, leveraging the pan to twist the assassin’s arm. Now that his arm was out of the way, he imbued his right arm with svelto and punched as hard as he could the man’s chest.

But he didn’t budge.

The blow connected with a solid thud, and it felt like hitting a wall. Julius merely blinked, his expression unchanged as he absorbed the impact. He quickly regained his composure, glaring at Luka with a mix of surprise and irritation.

“Is that it?” Julius taunted, his voice low and mocking muffled by his mask.

“Shi—” Luka cursed as he realized his punch had no effect until Julius followed with a leg sweep, making Luka stumble.

In a flash of insight, Luka dropped the pan, releasing all strength he had on Julius’s arm, making him lose his balance and stumble as well. “Tch, Svelto!” Julius shouted, his right arm crackling with energy once more as he tore down the saucepan along with the wall in front of him.

The sudden explosion of debris sent dust and fragments flying, momentarily obscuring their surroundings. Luka seized the chance. He darted to the side, navigating through the chaos with quick, calculated movements. His heart raced, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he searched for a weapon among the scattered kitchenware.

As the dust began to settle, Luka spotted a container full of pepper lying a few feet away. He lunged for it, gripping it tightly before throwing it at Julius.

A cloud of pepper spread inside the kitchen floating everywhere. Julius staggered back, coughing and shielding his eyes from the sudden onslaught of spice. Luka wasted no time, taking advantage of the momentary disorientation.

His left arm glowed beneath his jacket, another talisman burning his skin as he activated it. Pointing a finger at Julius, Luka shouted, “Esfelto!” Amidst the pepper cloud, a surge of flame erupted, engulfing the kitchen in a blaze of orange and red. The fire roared to life, racing toward Julius and propelling him back outside while exploding through the stone brick wall.

The kitchen was filled with chaos as flames danced along the walls, the heat licking at Luka’s skin. Smoke rose from the place, but was soon evacuated through the gaping hole in the hole formed by the explosion.

“Is it over…?” Luka asked himself, hoping the same spell that ended Yelena would suffice for him.

But as soon as he uttered these words, outside, Julius emerged from the rubble, seemingly unscathed. Only his suit had burned down, revealing runes and tattoos inscribed all over his body.

The man simply brushed off the rubble from his shoulders as he walked back towards him. The runes on his body seemed to glow.

“Runes…?” Luka muttered to himself. They looked like Nordic runes he had seen from books back in his world. The man was clearly human below that hood, but the ink carved on his body looked otherworldly.

Finally, the assassin sighed, a sound that echoed ominously in the silence. He was now at a comfortable distance, and seeing how the young man was struggling, he felt no choice but to unleash his most potent spell.

Bringing the two palms of his hand together, he began asking in a murmur.

“Are you afraid of the dark?”

A simple spell used for assassination, a dark art that cost him the right to return to the holy city, Julius drew his main card.

But instead of recoiling in fear, Luka crouched low, his mind racing as he recalled Viktor’s words. Piece by piece, he began to understand the puzzle laid before him.

The man in front of him was an assassin. A man who trained hard to master his craft of reinforcement magic. Yet, there was a fatal flaw in his use. Julius could only use the reinforcement spell on one part of his body at a time.

A grand magic called Gift of Reversal. A conceptual magic born from the runes inscribed on his body, making his existence and use of magic the reverse of what it should be.

A holy man becoming an assassin. Its holy magic becoming darkness. A reinforcement spell meant for the whole body only useable localized.

While Luka didn’t know the exact details or its existence, the fact remained the same. Julius was vulnerable when he attacked.

The darkness of his spell started creeping in. Soon, Luka couldn’t see anything, hear anything, rendering his internal senses disoriented.

Thus he had no choice.

Against a grand magic, he had to use one as well.

Thank you, master… His mind drifted off to Daji, who taught him much and many. Still, what he was about to do was something he never told her.

Despite being a poor learner and struggling with academics, Luka possessed an uncanny knack for spotting loopholes and unconventional ideas. It was a skill he’d honed from history, often relying on creative thinking rather than strict adherence to rules. In a structured world, he had always felt like an outsider, a misfit who couldn’t quite find his place.

But in a world where common sense didn’t apply, a mind feeling out of place may be what he needed the most.

“You shall die,” he heard the voice of Julius echo in his mind, yet he didn’t move.

“I know. One day, I will,” Luka answered, closing his eyes slowly.

“Everyone underestimates me… So do I…” He began chanting in his mind, he didn’t need any indications.

“From where I stand, I always gaze at the top…” he thought bitterly. I never won in my life.

“That’s why…” he repeated, letting the words wash over him. That’s why…

Control: room

A faint light ran through the walls of the kitchen. He didn’t need sight. He didn’t need sound. All he needed was himself, his body, his breathing…

And his magic.

“I know better than anyone how to deal with you guys up there.” I always reach out to the top.

Without warning, he stood up, the talismans on his right hand flaring to life, their warmth flooding through him like a surge of power. He poured everything he had into that energy, channeling his desperation, his anger, and his will to survive.

“Wha—!” Julius realized too late what was happening.

With a single inspiration, a mere breath, Luka unleashed all the mana coursing through him. The air around his fist crackled and split to let it through as his hand glowed brightly. And in a split second, he felt it, the impact against the man’s head, merciless and violent.

The collision sent a shockwave through the kitchen, rattling the remaining pots and pans. The force reverberated in Luka’s arm as the power of his strike resonated through him. Julius’s body seemed to freeze for an instant, his brain shutting down from the sheer force. Teeth cracked under the impact as his head snapped back, eyes rolling white, before he was sent flying from the blow back into the garden, his body crashing with a thud.

“You keep saying that I’m weak. That I should’ve died back there.” Luka continued, exhaling slowly as he felt the blowback from his use of mana, a familiar exhaustion creeping in.

“But it’s not about being strong or weak.”

“It’s about ending you right here, right now…”

That’s right, a young princess lives here, and her life turned around because of these miserable people. The face he saw back at the burial burned into his mind.

“...So that she can smile once more!”