Silvie's Trial
The treasure room was vast and dimly lit, the air thick with an unearthly stillness. Shelves lined with gold and artifacts gleamed faintly in the dim light, and intricate traps lay hidden in plain sight.
Silvie moved with newfound agility, her enhanced suit heightening her reflexes and strength. "I can't believe this suit is this powerful," she thought as she dodged a volley of arrows triggered by a stray movement. Leaping and twisting through the air with acrobatic precision, she reached a spiral staircase descending into the depths.
Beily's words rang in her ears: "If you move fast enough, the traps won't get you."
With a confident smile, she sprinted down the stairs, weaving through mechanical snares and pressure-sensitive tiles. At the bottom, a massive chamber greeted her. Seven humanoid stone statues stood motionless, each armed with weapons, guarding an altar piled high with treasures.
At the center of the altar, bathed in an eerie glow, were two gleaming red gloves. Silvie's heart skipped a beat. "Red and shiny. That has to be it," she thought.
Cautiously, she crept past the statues, the artifact in her possession masking her presence.
"With this artifact, nothing can detect me," she reassured herself, inching closer to the altar. When she finally reached the gloves, she exhaled in relief, her trembling hands hovering over the prized objects.
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The Assault on Ignir
Meanwhile, in the Queen's Tower, Valerius, Eryndor, and the nobles rushed to the windows as deafening booms echoed throughout the city. To their horror, massive craters, each spanning 80 meters in diameter, were appearing across entire neighborhoods, obliterating buildings and scattering debris.
Eryndor's sharp eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. "What is happening?" he asked aloud, his tone calm but layered with urgency.
An Elven noble screamed, "We're under attack!"
The princess, still wiping away tears from moments earlier, spun around in shock. "What?" She ran to the window, her eyes widening at the devastation. Her voice broke as she cried out, "Father! The city is being destroyed!"
The king remained kneeling beside his wife, his hands trembling as he held hers. Tears streaked his cheeks, and his body appeared lifeless, like an empty vessel consumed by his emotions.
The princess knelt beside him, shaking him desperately. "Father! Please, we need you!"
The nobles erupted in panic. "What is happening to the king?" one shouted.
Another noble exclaimed, "My lord, we are under attack!"
Hesta stepped forward, her tone grim. "The king hasn't seen his wife speak in 30 cycles. He won't be himself for a while."
The siblings regrouped, their expressions grim. Valerius muttered, "What a perfect time to attack—the king is out of commission."
Eryndor's tone was sharper, his words heavy with thought. "This is no coincidence. Such an assault is far too precise to be random. This calamity has been meticulously orchestrated, its timing no accident. The mastermind behind this attack knows exactly when and how to strike."
The princess, desperation in her voice, cried out, "Call the commander of security!"
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The Breach
Back in the treasure room, as Silvie lifted the red gloves from the altar, an ear-splitting alarm blared throughout the chamber. The stone guardians began to move, their eyes glowing a menacing red.
Upstairs in the surveillance room, panicked guards turned their attention to the monitors. "The treasure room has been breached!" one shouted.
Another guard stammered, his voice filled with dread. "How did we not see this? We're doomed!"
As the massive doors began to seal, Silvie sprinted toward the exit, the gloves clutched tightly in her hands. "Beily, you better keep your promise!" she thought, her heart pounding as the room's defenses activated around her.
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Beily's Devastation
Outside, Beily landed amidst a group of Elven guards, his swords gleaming as he cut through them with ease. The sheer force of his landing created a crater, scattering debris and ending the lives of all in the immediate vicinity.
The nobleman who had stared at the siblings spoke into a pen like device. " knock down the queens tower."
Pulling out a sleek pen-like device, Beily spoke into it. "Where's the Queen's Tower?"
The nobleman replied calmly through the device. "The highest point of the castle."
Beily smirked. "Quite far… but manageable."
With a burst of energy, he launched himself toward the tower, positioning his feet as a glowing blue disk formed beneath him.
"The maximum range of my ability is 100 meters," he thought. "But the tower is only 20 meters wide. Let's narrow the range to ensure precision."
The disk shrank, focusing its destructive energy. Beily collided with the base of the Queen's Tower, the impact obliterating its foundation and sending the structure plummeting.
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The Collapse
Inside the tower, the sudden collapse tore through the air with a deafening crack, the walls groaning as the structure gave way. The nobles, guards, and siblings were flung helplessly into the air as gravity and chaos intertwined. Chandeliers shattered against the tumbling walls, and debris cascaded around them like a deadly rain.
The princess, overcome by the abrupt acceleration, lost consciousness, her limp body suspended mid-air as shards of glass and stone spun around her. Valerius, his body twisting in the air, struggled to grasp at anything solid. His voice cracked with panic as he yelled, "We're falling!"
From the castle below, amidst the chaos of crumbling stone and deafening destruction, a figure sprang into action. In a span of mere seconds, a man—his movements sharp and deliberate—grabbed a woman by the hand. With calculated precision, he spun her with incredible force, the momentum building as her long cloak flared out behind her. Without hesitation, he hurled her with astounding strength toward the collapsing tower.
The woman, now a blur of motion, clutched a massive shield. Her trajectory was flawless, cutting through the thick cloud of debris and rubble. The shards of glass and stone fell away as she burst through the tower's window, the impact leaving a jagged opening in her wake. From her perspective, the world seemed to slow to a crawl as she scanned the chaos. There, amidst the deadly cascade, was Ziraiah, her body suspended mid-air in a descent that seemed frozen in time.
With an expert twist of her body, the woman angled herself toward Ziraiah. The shield she held beneath her feet served as a makeshift platform, absorbing the brunt of the falling debris. Reaching out with one hand, she caught the girl firmly, pulling her close. With a powerful thrust, she redirected their fall, bracing herself against the shield once more as they hurtled through the chaos.
The woman's mind flashed back to a moment just before the chaos erupted. She recalled her transformation—a shift from a plump, unassuming noblewoman to her true form: a statuesque and radiant young Elf with sharp features and piercing green eyes. In the memory, the man who had hurled her, now revealed in his own handsome Elven form, stood beside her. His voice, calm and assured, echoed in her thoughts:
"After Beily knocks down the tower, you will have exactly one second to act. Enter the falling tower, secure the girl, and get out immediately."
Her lips curved into a small, amused smile as the memory faded. "Dreados," she thought to herself, the humor tinged with admiration. "Your plans are always maddeningly precise."
Back in the present, the woman tightened her grip on Ziraiah. With one final push of her shield, she crashed through the opposite wall of the tower, propelling both herself and the girl away from the deadly collapse. Tumbling through the air, her body twisted with controlled grace as she tried to balance herself in the air.
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Gustein's Desperation
Meanwhile, Gustein tumbled uncontrollably alongside the king, the queen, and their unconscious daughter. His body bounced against crumbling sections of the tower, and he shouted with desperation, "Hey! Snap out of it, you fool! We're going to die!"
The king's eyes, clouded with emotion, began to focus. The weight of his family's survival cut through his grief. With a roar of determination, his magic surged forth, casting radiant golden runes that formed an intricate barrier around himself, his wife, his daughter, Hesta, and a few nearby nobles. The shimmering shield deflected the falling debris, carving out a fragile sanctuary amidst the chaos.
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The Impact
The collapsing tower plummeted toward the ground, massive chunks of stone shattering into the earth with catastrophic force. The initial impact sent shockwaves rippling through the castle grounds, creating craters and fissures that swallowed nearby structures. Entire sections of the courtyard disappeared beneath the debris, while clouds of dust and smoke rose like a shroud over the devastation.
Unprotected, Valerius and Eryndor hurtled toward the ground. Eryndor twisted mid-air, his sharp eyes scanning for any possible salvation. He reached for Valerius but found nothing to grab. The brothers locked eyes briefly—Valerius' filled with panic, Eryndor's with grim resolve.
"This must be it," Valerius thought bitterly as the wind howled around him. "I can't believe this is how my life ends."
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To Be Continued...