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7

Maria looked around. There was blood against the once pristine blue rugs of the castle, her stomach churned, as she stared at the lifeless corpses and the drained head. The cracking walls, and the smoke pained her. The ground shook beneath her feet and she felt as if the world was crumbling alongside the home she thought she knew and the safety she had always enjoyed.

. . .her legs shook with the turbulence of the castle. She felt the heat soaking through her clothes and tingling against her skin. Her breath quickened. Heaviness welled through her, she could feel the tears glistering at the corner of her eyes. . .

A hand touched her shoulder. The weight of it, the softness, the warmth reassured her. And it grasped onto her holding her steady.

"It's time to leave," Ais's voice soothed into her ears, recognizing the little girl for what she was.

Sniffles squirmed out through small, low, sobs. 'Not now,' Maria thought, 'Not right here, there's still things to do.' The tears were wiped from her face as readily as they came. And they came hard and fast.

"Where's-where's Arthur? Layfon? You said code Red Fire - Plan C right?" She asked.

Ais glanced at Hawk then back.

"Red, the castle has a chance to fall completely into enemy hands, it's an evacuation scenario. Fire simply means we're following the procedure for the castle being on fire. Plan C, we'll be escaping through a teleportation matrix hidden on the second floor. It should be connected to Lord Clover's estate, a long time companion of your father." Hawk explained.

"And?" She asked, "Should we not be leaving to meet up with the two?"

"We're not meeting up with the two," That royal guard shook her head, voice dulled.

Maria turned, supposing she must have heard wrong, and asked, "What?"

"Princess, I am your Personal Guard, not his," Ais elaborated, "There's a reason why you two have individual guards. Arthur will be left to Layfon, I'm sure he has things well under way."

"What nonsense," Maria spat, "I'm not leaving without him."

Leaving without her brother? Leaving without Layfon? Had her guard taken her emotionlessness to new heights?

Ais looked to Hawk and nodded.

The White Shadow took a step forward and grabbed onto Maria, lifting her up.

"What are you doing-LET ME GO!"

Her voice fell upon the castle like thunder. A shimmering light fanned to her front as white swords formed into the air. They shuddered, then flew.

'I'm sorry, Maria,' She narrowed her eyes as she drew her sword, "Do it."

A thud rang.

A gloved hand struck against the base of the princess's neck.

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The world blurred before Maria's eyes and the last thing she saw was Ais's effortless dispatch of her blades.

. . .

Footsteps echoed.

'What the hell is going on?' The boy thought with bated breaths.

A low chuckle rang, the stone floor rumbled, and his spin creeped with a chill.

"Don't take this to heart, kid," A soft laughter followed nonsensical words.

Half of the library was already missing, replaced by a gaping hole that stared into an abyss of blazing darkness. There were flames and there was the sound of barbaric fighting. He was high, edged at the impasse between a bookshelf and the broken mangles of the floor that looked out onto the ground. There was no escaping that way. He would either break his bones or be consumed by the embrace of flames. And what flames it were, had they set a beast loose?

"It's just life. You sit upon your castle and bask in elegance and I dredged through the undergrounds to climb here and slit your throat."

A flickering shadow made itself known through the corner of his eyes as the small boy, still hugging a book to his chest, creeped along the bookshelf's side.

Arthur cursed, 'Think think think.'

There was a gap between natural intelligence and strategic intelligence but he thought better of himself that he might be good at both.

'I have , and I have , and there's even my defensive amulet. . .it can block one strike from an A ranker, 2 from a B ranker, and 3 from a C ranker. A D ranker and lower wouldn't even be able to damage it. But. . .what rank is he?' He thought, going through the only leverage he had, and especially debating on the necklace his uncle had given him.

Slowly, a pseudo-plan formed.

'Better than waiting for death, but worse than certainty—I'll take the chance.'

Arthur turned and ran.

He heard hurried footsteps coming from the other-side, the man clearly rushed towards him, there wasn't a way he would make it to the more than five meters away door, but he didn't intend to.

He slid to a stop, stamped his feet, and threw his book into the open.

Tack tack tack

Daggers struck like deadly arrows. The book ripped and teared as loose papers flew. A diagram of the mana flow within a body floated down and Arthur took that chance.

He ducked, hands stretched, "!"

A ball of flame spasmed out from his palm, cut through the enclave of shredded papers, and zipped through the air.

The man grinned, took a step back, and swung.

Boom A small explosion resounded as low sparks of flames walloped before quickly dissipating—Arthur had no desire to add more fire to the castle.

"Only this level of magic?" The man's dark hair swerved as he chided, brown eyes baring down, he made to run toward the boy.

But. . .

"What the-"

A rope of mana had wrapped around his feet without his realization, tugging him down as it continued to squirm and grapple upon his body. Soon, the glittering red light hugged his entire figure.

Arthur smirked, "Gotcha"

A spark and a blaze.

A small yell tore through the night sky as the man lit on flames.

"!"

The man's figure blurred as he spun with the flames. Strokes of mana, like blades, churned and struck out from his body like listening within a storm and finally. . .

Arthur watched in awe as the man stood, his clothing all but burnt off, but his body was only a bit scorched. The area around him, however, had all but crumbled. Deep marks of blades gashed the floor and the surrounding shelf's were gone.

'Wow, he used a mid-ranged attack skill to break through a trap. . .simultaneously putting out the flames. . .'

As amazed as the boy was, so too was he fearful. His plan was sound but it professed a great risk on himself.

Now, the two faced each other. One 10 year old boy and an enraged man staring down at him—ready to kill him.

'I'll have to change my-'

Blood splattered from his lips.

Two blades logged into the boys abdomen as he found himself within the air, held with dark eyes narrowed onto his.

"Boy," The man twisted his blades.

Arthur's lips forced open with pain. This was much worse than merely burning himself in training. It was an immeasurable one, something far beyond what he could tolerate.

"You've really got guts."

He smacked his hands onto the opponent. Fists balled and struggling, clawing and scratching with everything he had. But no matter what, The man stared into his eyes as he continued to suffer.

Finally, he smashed his hand onto his opponents face, gripping tightly with stubby fingers.

"Fu*k it."

Arthur managed a grim laugh as the man's eyes widened. The battle had been hard pressed, and he had moved crudely, but it was his win.

"!"

Boom

The boy flew back and smashed into a bookshelf. Wood splinters flew and the ground shook as the whole thing came down in a crash.

.

.

.

A pile of books shook as Arthur dragged his body from underneath.

Although he suffered no burns due to using his own magic, his left-hand was broken, and his back felt as if it had been pierced by blades—he couldn't feel a thing.

He looked into the burning world, deep breaths escaping his lips as he rested his back upon the broken shelf. His hand clung to his abdomen and flames reflected into his eyes.

At this moment, he finally realized how hard it was for him to breathe. The roof of the room was filled with smoke, and every breath brought with it pain.

'I'm losing strength. . .' He sighed, gritting his teeth, 'The door is right there. . .how's Maria doing?'

Fear lingered in his heart, not only for his safety, but for that of his sister. tears lingered in his eyes as blood dripped from his lips; there was an anticipation that he would pass out at any moment. That he would stay here and die.

He pushed himself up, his stubby legs struggled, but he managed a shaky stand. His vision blurred as he moved toward the library's door.

"Maria. . .Layfon. . ." His voice struggled, calling out both in worry and for help. He reached out to push the door. . .

A hand clasped his shoulder.

His head swerved around to a charred face, teeth grimly tightened upon a burnt flesh.

Arthur gripped the necklace.