This was the chance for my Power I had not yet used: the art of "Vessel Transformation into Vercilius," which calls upon increased power and dexterity.

"Vercilius!" The incantation escaped my lips, reverberating across the battlefield. A torrent of energy surged within me, a current that pulsed through my muscles, my very being. Catching the attention of the sentry positioned atop the wall. A deep hue of green suffused my skin momentarily before receding, accompanied by the materialization of my revered weapon, REIDE, A sword upon my back. Power coursed through my veins, invigorating my senses.

I counted the enemies as I landed on the ground and hid behind a pile of cannonballs, "Four, five, eleven." Instead of attacking, the guards noticed my presence and started alerting their allies. I could see their movement as they threw a torch toward a pile of hay from where I was standing, probably signifying the presence of an intruder on the walls.

Lacking armor, and with my equipment rendezvous with Mathew and the squad still to come, the seriousness of my vulnerability loomed big. I was prepared for the worst-case situation; one shot may decide my fate. I sent one of my summons to the front with my left hand, and it quickly returned, demonstrating its skill in the region of suspended time. A whole battalion of guards patrolled the perimeter of the wall, each holding a torch ready to light haystacks to warn their fellow guards.

Seizing control of the narrative, I rose from my concealed stance. My hand extended toward the incendiary haystacks.

"Sigh," I breathed out, gathering myself. Kneel, face front, and extend your arm. A combination of whispered instructions and deliberate breathing guided my every action as my chant rang out in the thick of a melee. My mental focus turned to the current task, and my imagination helped me.

"On the target, pay attention to a single opening." My heartbeats were doubt rushed through my body as I focused. "Control yourself... Refine, confine, and... release!" The result of years of preparation came together as my psychic energy surged inside of me, my fail-safe attack.

In my hands, a powerful weapon known as the Battler Lance manifested in an ethereal form that was the result of my pure mental abilities as an Esper. My area of expertise used to be restricted to perucolysis, but mastery has given me the power to direct psychic energy as I like. The burning haystack was impaled by the invisible spear that was created from this psychic tapestry, which also started a chain reaction that destroyed the other haystacks lining the wall. Chaos reigned among the dust and ash, and the strongly defended wall was in disarray. The enemy's ranks had become chaotic, which presented an opportunity to strike.

I quickly drew my dual-wielded matchlock pistols and pointed them towards the guards who had detected my plan of attack while dodging the smoke screen. As the enemy sentinels fell, the sounds of gunfire—"Bang" "Bang"—resounded throughout the battlefield.

I mumbled, "That's two," The frontal fortifications needed to be completely destroyed in order to open the way for the battalion, therefore time was of the essence.

"Master Aries, this is Hayes speaking. Harbinger confirms your position. We request the elimination of the frontal defense; your cover presents an ideal opportunity. The Musketeers in the battalion will provide suppressing fire on the opposing wall."

"That aligns with my original plan," I acknowledged. Discarding my pistols, I swiftly exchanged them for a discarded rifle found in the hands of a fallen guard. One of the guards persisted in firing a cannon, a futile endeavor as his vision was obscured by the remnants of my smoke screen. Dispatching him, I shifted targets to a nearby crate, anticipating the presence of gunpowder. My judgment was validated as an explosive detonation sent shockwaves through the area, felling both the artillery and its operators.

The guards retreated, rallied, and adjusted their formation. My smokey cover started to disappear, and the guards reorganized to put up a strong defense. My curiosity aroused, and I caught a glimpse of an unattended cannon, noting its potential. I lit the fuse with the third matchlock I had stashed away in my boot. The thunder of the cannon echoed, slicing a path of carnage through the lines. The earth shook, and among the bloodshed, cries of agony could be heard.

I jumped across the burning crater and moved over the wreckage of the dead. The remaining guards sought cover behind the Musketeers' obscuring fire. I rushed forward from the opposite direction. With a loud clash and a shower of sparks, my blade ripped free from its sheath. My intended victim was in front of me.

I charged at the Enemy with my blade ready to strike, only to encounter unexpected resistance as my stroke was parried with a loud clang. It got me off guard and I leapt straight towards the axe-wielding guard unintentionally. He launched a deadly assault and I realized that I had to use my special Ability—the only trump card of the Vercilius—a Time Stop.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

The universe around me stopped moving. In this time of frozen seconds, my breath and eyesight were both suspended. My summon, a companion beyond the grasp of time, stood by my side and shared its vision.

I shifted my body's course, evading the axe wielder's trajectory. In the starting of time's flow, I positioned myself adjacent to my adversaries.

In the world of stopped time, I am unable to attack any creatures, even humans, because I will also be repulsed by the damage. One of the limitations of this divine power is this. Time begins to flow, and I have to wait five seconds before I can strike. I examined the guards' structures and my surroundings. My ability to stop time is inversely correlated with how long I can hold my breath. Time then returned to normal. The guards were all surprised, and they began to look all about them for me.

Seeking refuge behind a sizeable cannon crate, I wait for my time to strike, allowing a cooldown of five seconds to elapse. This time, With Calmness and not haste. Swift and silent, I closed in from the rear.

My first strike was aimed at the bigger Axe guard from a non-confrontational angle. His demise was assured with a fast, lethal strike. But, my sword stuck in his neck so I had to leave it as it is. I quickly moved toward the ledge while drawing my knife to be ready. My opponent's parry demonstrated his skill as our blades clashed again, resonating off each other. Two guards entered at the same time, their intentions obvious. I instinctively reached for the dagger that was fastened to my waist, using it to repel their twin danger while keeping an eye out for the archer.

The arrow from the archer was headed for my throat, but I took immediate action to block it. Dropping my knife, I grabbed the guard's arm and used it as a makeshift shield threw him towards the twin danger. Both attackers fell to the earth below as a result of the impact. And swiftly i threw the knife straight at the archer's head.

There was only one enemy left, supported by two novice recruits. I changed my approach, launching two phony blows at the guard's head before striking him with a series of blows to the torso. But his armor stood up well, having been reinforced twice to withstand the attack. Two blades were hurled into the air toward me amid this, forcing me to use time stop again. I changed my course, and time marched on, allowing me to evade their deadly path.

I took advantage of the momentum and avoided my enemies, hoping to gain the upper hand. I kicked the guard in the shin with a quick kick, forcing him to lean over toward me. The timing was right; my knife sliced through his throat at just the right moment. Two inexperienced people flanked him, terror shining in their eyes.

With a spear in hand, one of them lunged aimlessly. I used the dead guard's body as a shield to block the spear's path.

"Shit!, It's stuck!"

"Too bad."

Eventually forcing the spear-wielder off the ledge with the body. The final rookie sped ahead. I heard a gunshot followed by a hollow thump as he came closer to me. The guard's lifeless body lay on the ground with its eyes gazing voidly upward. A pool of red that was expanding at his side was the only sound in the unsettling silence.

My hazardous situation was saved thanks to the battalion's powerful weaponry. I looked over the damage and saw that the majority of the guards had perished at the battalion's hands, not mine. It didn't matter, though; victory was close at hand, and one last ritual—the combustion of the Imperial banner that had formerly flown from the walls of the stronghold—would seal our victory.

The imperial banner, a representation of evil, met a fiery end as its cloth burned away into smoke and ash. As our men charged into the city with pride-filled Greek and Eblistan banners and raised swords, a chorus of triumph resounded. A loud chorus of victorious cheers signaled the Requiem for the master of the stronghold.

I took advantage of the break and sat down on a chair that had blood spatter all over it, the unexpected but unavoidable result of my efforts. The depth of the seat could feel my exhaustion and the weight of my acts. I allowed my thoughts to wander during the peaceful interval in the middle of the fading war echoes.

The guards, who had been enemies but were now faceless victims of war. The potential and dreams of youth were prematurely quenched by the fire of conflict, mirroring my own age. Like me, they too carried unrealized hopes and dreams that had been shattered by the cruel hand of war. My thoughts were consumed by the realization, which was an unpleasant reflection of the dual lives we had led and the choices that had been entangled in the web of confusion.

Perhaps they had also left behind loved ones, leaving their kin without guardians. As I thought about our shared fate—a group of innocent, passionate adolescents caught in this mess.

They were not the only ones responsible; there were other parties as well. The war's masterminds—the old and bitter—fanned the flames of hostility, their hunger for power sustaining the cycle of bloodshed. I recognized myself as a reluctant player in that story who was motivated by a desire for vengeance.

Vercilius, I was aware of your reflection. Even if our journeys were separate, they converged at the point of sadness. The young are used as tools by the cunning, and their wrath is channeled for ulterior political purposes. However, I also had a portion of the blame for the instability and bloodshed I brought about.

My commitment was dampened by this unpleasant understanding. Time was a valuable resource and an ally who still had some mysteries to fully understand. There would be no giving up on my quest until the task at hand was completed. The name Lucifer represented my cause for traveling and the judgment that lay ahead for him.

I strengthened my resolve during the fleeting pause since I knew the road I was traveling was paved with paradoxes and that my decisions would determine its course. I couldn't afford the luxury of kindness until that aim was achieved.