"Array! Deploy shields!", quickly releasing their shield, spikes of Pure Magic appeared below them, puncturing the horses and most of the Rank 1 mages in an instant. If it was an explosion or elemental attack, they would've been somewhat fine, but attacks with Pure Mana were extremely rare, making most defensive artifacts forget about them.
Chaos ensued, the screaming of men and horse bundled together as the people who weren't punctured to death tried to secure their footing. The leader landed roughly on the ground, but got up quickly, staring at his panicked soldiers, a sudden sense of dread kicked in.
As he turned, a crushing grip seized his arm—bone snapping instantly. The man could only see an approaching fist covered in dark stone as his entire head was obliterated by the stone-covered fist, turning into a bloody mess. Lucas was surprised how weak he was, but instantly moved to the next.
His eyes locked onto the next Rank 2. In an instant, he closed the distance. The mage saw the brutal attack on his leader and knew he wasn't going to last long. Waiting for the right moment he spread his arms wide, conjuring up a wave of Dark Mana, it was stationary, but running through it would be a bad idea.
With Lucas's momentum, he couldn't stop, but the defensive spell was wasted on him, raising his fist, he used his full strenth to punch through the entire spell, blasting a hole in the mage's chest. He could barely perceive what happened before another fist obliterated his head, turning it into mush on the ground.
Turning around, Lucas found a bunch of dead horses and men laying on the ground, the spikes had vanished. In the center three Rank 2 mages had conjured up a powerful shield made out of pure mana, they wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Sadly, without a leader, their minds weren't thinking straight, only survival mattered at this point.
Lucas looked at Asta, who nodded towards Lucas. It was enough for him to know it was okay to attack. Lucas sprinted towards the group, each with tantalizing fear in their eyes.
"Finally a good shield, made out of something pure! Too bad its complexity is childlike.", Asta said as a small shard of Pure Mana shot forward, landing on the shield.
The shard simply stuck to the shield, but didn't break it. "Hah! That's right, you-", one of the remaining mages felt his confidence surge. The scary face of Lucas approaching them didn't sit well with them, but their shield should be strong enough.
Yet right after his boost of confidence, the small shard broke, creating cracks all over the shield. The man's fear came true, there was nothing to hold Lucas back now. Pointing towards him, "Fire!", they all unleashed their spells, yet Lucas didn't feel intimidated in the slightest.
He ran through the spells, blocking with his arms before swiping them aside, creating an opening. Everything happened in an instant, the mages couldn't react in the slightest.
Before they realized how terrible their predicament was, the nearest mage felt a fist enter his chest, blowing his heart into smithereens. The second mage saw the first attack but couldn't do anything to the flaming blue sword that decapitated him.
The final mage created a wall between them, but a fist burst through it, grabbing his head, crushing it on the spot. Destroying the wall with a simple movement, Lucas watched over the battlefield.
Corpses of the mages scattered in the grass, tainting them as blood-red as Lucas's fists. Paul, who had been watching over the entire fight, no, calling it a fight would be a disgrace. It was a simple massacre, it took only a few seconds for an entire squadron of mages to be purged.
Spreading his willpower and part of his aura, Lucas was deep in thought as he inspected his surroundings. Asta noticed Lucas's actions and followed, sharpening his senses and looking out for anything out of the ordinary, yet he didn't notice anything.
"What are you doing?"
"Hmm, I just thought we might be caught up in an illusion.", Lucas said as he kicked one of the corpses near him, checking the reaction.
Asta frowned, he had experience with illusion, but that was because of his background, Lucas shouldn't have any encounters with it yet. "Why would you say that? I can assure you that we aren't in an illusion right now."
"I don't know. They were just so weak. Did they send trainees?", his question was genuine. He didn't really hold back all that much, but his strength would've just hurt someone like Grok, not kill, not even close. If Grok was hit with such a punch, he would get hit back twice as hard. Yet all these so-called mages died in a single hit.
'Even that little girl was able to put up more of a fight than they did.'
'Well, she had time to prepare, this time, we were the ones with traps.'
"Hahaha!", Asta couldn't help but laugh out loud. He was untouched by the red irony fluid, but his bloodlust certainly was present. "These were small fry, and don't worry, the points don't diminish if they're weak. This just shows the difference between Ranks. An ant can't fight against a bunny, who in turn can't fight against a wolf."
Lucas nodded, he had grown tremendously in past few years. Through dozens of trails and tribulations, he forged himself into a powerful mage. Most people his age didn't even think about fighting. Most mages just lived normal lives, far removed from his own path.
Shaking the thoughts away, he started to dig for cores. Asta gladly left that task to someone like Lucas, who didn't mind getting his hand dirty. "Was it necessary to let two escape?", Asta asked as Lucas was pulling apart flesh to look for tiny stones.
"I barely used any spells, and you didn't even try. If they're with two, they'll have a bit more information, but it also shows that we weren't capable of dealing with runaways."
"I see.", Asta nodded. "Well, it won't take long before a Rank 3 appears, so we'll have to hurry up."
"Have you been able to contact them yet?", after Lucas had declared they were going to take down a Rank 3, he had been working on a plan. Not hiding details any longer from Asta, they worked together to find a possible method. They were strong, but against a Rank 3, they were canon fodder.
As such, they were creating the circumstances that would allow them to win.
---------------------------
Two men were running through the woods, their faces and backs covered in sweat. They were trained soldiers who had been in quite a few battles, but their sweat wasn't caused by their movements or training.
It was all cold sweat from being faced with a strong predator, having their lives on the line, they couldn't help but instinctually sweat their fear out. Their hyperfocussed eyes were looking for the quickest way to run away.
Not daring to look back, their only goal was to move as fast as their bodies could carry them. After an entire day of running, both were mentally and physically exhausted. Only then did they dare take a break in the form of walking. Sitting still didn't sit well with them.
They didn't say a word to each other as they just wanted to go back home.
Time passed before they finally reached their headquarters. A massive castle with four distinct towers that looked over the land. The walls were made out of large pieces of stone which were perfectly placed on top of one another, clearly the work of magic.
The guards saw them approach and instantly tolled the bell, alerting everyone. Letting the men inside, they were brought to the main hall of the castle.
Rylo, a noble commander who had quite a few decent feats was ruling over this fortress. It was a bastion of safety and security. He had a ton of soldiers under him, at least a thousand men worked for him, not that all of those were in this castle. This was merely their headquarters, most of their men were stationed somewhere else to serve as safeguards or were out on missions.
He was a Rank 3 and didn't get there easily, only after a lot of sweat, tears, and blood did he get this far. The price for this power caused his face to look rough, his emotions had diluted over time as he looked only for the most efficient path forward. At this point, he felt only two things, anger at a failure and relief at a success.
This did result in a lot of victories and rewards for him. Almost all of his equipment were powerful Rank 2 or 3 artifacts capable of defending or killing anyone on his level. Getting his hands dirty was an everyday occurrence, causing everyone to subconsciously rely on him.
In the main hall, there was place for a throne, but it stayed empty as Rylo never cared for such a seat. He was more focussed on the tables and documents that were displayed on top of them.
Looking over the information contained within, Rylo found some problems. They were under the Prince, meaning they wanted to go against the Holy Kingdom, and while Rylo didn't agree with that strategy, he wouldn't run from an unwinnable battle.
'I was too kind.', when they were looking for a fitting commander for defending the border, everyone looked towards him, since he always took care of hard or impossible jobs to save the reputation of others. Most of the time he came back victorious, but this time, it was simply undoable.
Instead, he had been looking for holes in the border of the Holy Kingdom, but there were none. Frowning he read a report that stated that some of the Colors, the elite team of The Holy Kingdom, were spotted checking out the border some time ago.
They were all Rank 6 or 7, each powerful enough to rule over an entire world. Yet they were all loyal to the Goddess of Light. If they were to encounter them, no matter the strategy, they would fall. History showed that with enough planning and strategy one could best a Higher Ranked Mage. But it also proved that this was only true until Rank 6.
Against a Rank 7, there was nothing you could do except fall. Especially so against the Colors who not only have the backing of the most powerful country in the universe, but also the experience of the Goddess of Light. Being trained by an ancient Goddess made anyone powerful.
A mage entered the otherwise quiet hall, his footsteps echoed through the room as did his voice as he delivered his message. "Commander. The 52nd squadron has fallen, we have two that survived to report their findings.", the secretary stated calmly.
"The 52nd? Weren't they on recon in the younger princess's territory? There should be nothing there.", while Rylo cared for his troops, he only cared for the competent ones. To fail a basic recon mission only meant they weren't cut out for it in the first place.
"Looks like we'll have to replace the 52nd again. I don't think they'll give us any replacements, dammit!", he sighed while grasping his forehead in his hand. He had enough troubles with the border and the potential threat of the Colors. If there would be trouble with internal fights as well, his hands would truly be tied.
Almost all of his resources were put on the border to keep a unified front against the troops that tried to get in from The Holy Kingdom. The only saving grace was the fact that there was no official declaration of war. Or else the Holy Kingdom wouldn't have to hold back.
Not giving it much though, the two members of the now retired 52nd squadron entered the hall. Facing their commander, their hearts sank deep. His tall stature, wide shoulders and overall equipment forced the men to recognize their superior.
The secretary looked at them with a hint of disdain, but they didn't notice it. "Go ahead.", Rylo spoke with a deep and commandeering tone. Time was always scarce and resources depleted, though that was only natural during a semi war against a much larger opponent, let alone The Holy Kingdom.
One of the two men shook slightly as he recalled what happened, refreshing his fears. "They....it...", spoken quietly, the man stammered as the word had a hard time passing over his lips. Rylo sighed deeply before averting his eyes to something more important.
"Speak up.", cutting the man of, he spoke with a tired tone. It wasn't a request, it was a clear command. The secretary stepped in, "My apologies, I'll take care of them.", guiding the men somewhere else. Rylo gave a simple wave of approval without even looking at them.
While Rylo cared for his men, he only cared for the competent ones. There was plenty of cannon fodder in the world, and talents were rare. So it only made sense to give them distinct treatment.
When it came to difference in status, Rylo couldn't care less, although not everyone thought like that. Commoner or noble, they all died when their head was ripped off.
Being in the 52nd squadron, the men were in the higher numbers, which meant the weakest forces of their commander. The lower the squadron's number, the more powerful the group. Hence, the higher ranked squadrons moved through personnel at a frightening pace as most were killed off or promoted during their first few missions.
'It was never this bad though.', the secretary shook his head as he walked back to the commander. Gathering the intel from the two men proved to be quite easy after they were a bit sedated.
Seeing his secretary return, he made room for him to speak. "What happened?"
"They encountered two mages that killed the entire squadron in a matter of seconds. They were Rank 2, one seems to be at the bottom of Rank 2 while the other has made some decent progress, most likely around the halfway point. According to one he was able to crush a skull with his bare hands, making me believe he has already completed the Mana Pool step to reach Rank 3."
As his secretary went through the information, Rylo had grabbed a bottle of water to freshen up his dried up mouth and throat.
"So you're telling me two vagrant mages from unknown origin appeared from some backwater village and decimated an entire squadron of trained soldiers in a matter of seconds?", with each word, more and more anger seeped into his voice.
The secretary pushed his glasses back a bit.
'It is strange how they were able to defeat them so easily. Even if they were students who barely finished their classes, they should at least hold out for some time. Interesting.'
His straight back and serious demeanor didn't even break in the sight of the seething rage his commander displayed. He got used to it at after a certain point. "Yes, with the available information, at this point in time, we can only say that we underestimated that village."
Keeping his calm, he gave a simple analysis of what happened and a suggestion for the future. "Since they are armed with two powerful Rank 2's, we should send 2 squadrons capable of handling such a threat."
"Do we have any Rank 3's available?"
"I'm afraid not, they're all fighting against or more accurately, holding the forces of the Holy Kingdom back."
"What do we have?"
"Squadrons 24 and 27 are about to be back from one of their patrol missions. If they have the energy, we can send them."
"That's fine. Go ahead.", letting go of his anger, he placed the water bottle down and moved back to the maps. There were a number of Rank 3's working under him, weaker compared to him of course, but still powerful assets on the battlefield.
His trusty secretary simple stared at the large back of his commander as he grabbed the water bottle. It was completely misshapen, a large imprint of his hand forced into the metal.
'Seems low grade adamantite wasn't good enough.', he held back a small sigh in the presence of his commander before taking it with him. 'Looks like I'll have to make another order.'