The room was filled with a low murmur as Sylas’s most trusted people gathered around him.
They had just returned from their respective tasks and now awaited his words.
The air was tense yet calm, the sounds coming from the hallway where the Frost Elves and the Third Circle Mages clashed can be clearly heard even inside of the room.
Sylas sat at the head of the room, as he listened to the distant battle.
He touched his forehead and smiled faintly.
“They're making quite a sound, aren’t they?"
Machivel, standing to his right, chuckled softly.
"Quite the spectacle, Lord Sylas."
Suntuzel leaned against the wall with a smirk.
"Should we just join the war? I’m getting sick of listening to their endless back-and-forth."
He gestured vaguely toward the direction of the battle.
"The Frost Elves are vulnerable, and this might be the best time to take them out once and for all."
The suggestion drew a few nods of agreement from the others.
The proximity of the clash meant every shout, roar, and explosion was audible, making it impossible to ignore.
To some, it was an irritation; to others, an opportunity.
Sylas shook his head,
"No, Suntuzel," he said, his voice calm but firm.Such a battle will keep going for a while. It’s not our place to intervene, not yet."
Machivel, ever perceptive, nodded in agreement.
"Heidrick and the rest of Blue Hope’s leadership won’t tolerate this chaos for long. When they arrive, the battle will come to an end, one way or another."
Suntuzel frowned but didn’t argue further.
Instead, he crossed his arms and asked,
"And what then? Do we just sit here and wait for someone else to clean up the mess?"
Sylas leaned forward slightly,
"Patience, When the dust settles, the Frost Elves will already have lost a significant portion of their strength. They’ll be battered, disorganized, and ripe for the taking."
The group fell silent, Sylas’s words sinking in.
It wasn’t just a plan—it was a declaration of inevitability.
"When things seem to be finished..."
Sylas began, his eyes gleaming with an almost predatory light, but he didn’t finish the sentence, leaving the implication hanging in the air.
Machivel, added
"We will take on the Frost Elves who have already lost their power,"
The room buzzed with quiet approval.
Sylas leaned back,
"But don’t be mistaken,This isn’t just about the Frost Elves.”
Suntuzel frowned.
"You think this is part of a larger plan?"
Sylas nodded slowly.
"Battles like this don’t erupt without reason. Someone is playing a game, and they’re trying to use us all as pieces on their board. But we won’t be pawns."
His voice grew colder,
"When the time comes, we’ll remind them who truly holds the power here."
Everyone present knew that his plans went far beyond simply dealing with the Frost Elves.
He was always thinking several steps ahead, anticipating moves before they were made.
Machivel broke the silence,
"What about Heidrick and Blue Hope? They won’t be pleased if we strike at the Frost Elves right after this battle."
Sylas waved a hand dismissively.
"Heidrick will have his hands full dealing with the aftermath of the explosion and this ridiculous skirmish. By the time he notices our actions, it will already be too late for him to intervene."
The room relaxed slightly, Sylas’s confidence reassuring them.
Sylas stood, signaling the end of the discussion.
"For now, we wait. Stay alert, conserve your strength, and be ready to move when I give the order."
His gaze swept across the room, sharp and commanding.
"When the time comes, we will not falter."
-
Five minutes later, some plans regarding the after battle was made.
Sylas and his people kept on talking and find the best course of action.
Sylas asked Suntuzel
"Explain," he said,
Suntuzel smiled faintly, his demeanor calm despite the tension in the room. "It’s a solid plan, my lord," he began.
"We wait for the Frost Elves to exhaust themselves in battle, then strike while they’re vulnerable. It’s logical, efficient, and plays to our strengths."
He paused, looking around the room at the nodding faces.
"But it’s also predictable."
Machivel was the first to catch on, his eyes narrowing.
"You’re saying our enemies will predict our move?"
Suntuzel nodded.
"Precisely. If we can devise such a plan, what’s to stop others—especially those like the Dark Sickle or the Dark Father Organization—from doing the same? They know we’re here. They know the Frost Elves are engaged in battle. They might already be planning to exploit the situation, just as we are."
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Sylas placed a hand on his face, and for a moment, the room was filled only with the sound of his deep, contemplative breathing.
Then, unexpectedly, he threw his head back and laughed, the sound reverberating through the room like a crack of thunder.
"They’ll wait for our battle with the Frost Elves to finish, and then they’ll strike while we’re weakened from the fight."
He lowered his hand and grinned at Suntuzel.
"You’re not wrong."
Suntuzel inclined his head slightly,
"It’s a risk we can’t ignore, my lord."
The others exchanged uneasy glances.
Sardias was the first one to speak.
"If that’s the case, what do we do? Abandon the plan?"
Sylas shook his head,
"No. We don’t abandon it. But we adapt."
Machivel leaned forward, intrigued.
"How do you propose we do that, my lord?"
Sylas stood and began pacing,
"First, we must assume the Dark Sickle and the Dark Father Organization are watching, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. If they believe we’ll be vulnerable after a battle with the Frost Elves, we must make them think twice."
Gran frowned. "And how do we do that?"
"We don’t show weakness. Instead, we turn the tables and make them the ones who are vulnerable."
Suntuzel raised an eyebrow
"You mean... bait them?"
Sylas nodded.
"Precisely. We let them believe they have the upper hand, that we’re exhausted and ripe for the taking. But instead of being weakened, we’ll be ready—prepared to counter their attack and crush them in one decisive strike."
Redel, who had been silent until now,
"That’s a gamble, my lord. If they don’t take the bait, we’ll have exposed ourselves for nothing."
Sylas smiled,
“It’s not a gamble if you know your opponent’s hand. The Dark Sickle and the Dark Father Organization are opportunistic, just like us. They won’t be able to resist an easy target. And when they come for us, we’ll be waiting."
The room was silent for a moment as everyone considered Sylas’s plan.
It was bold, risky, and required perfect execution.
But it also had the potential to turn a precarious situation into a decisive victory.
Sardias spoke up,
"If we’re going to pull this off, we’ll need to ensure the Frost Elves are dealt with quickly. The longer their battle drags on, the more likely it is that someone else will intervene."
Machivel nodded in agreement.
"And we’ll need to keep our forces hidden until the right moment. If the Dark Sickle or the Dark Father Organization sees us gathering our strength, they might suspect something."
Sylas nodded.
"Exactly. Timing is everything. We let the Frost Elves and the Third Circle Mages tear each other apart, then move in to finish the Frost Elves. Once they’re out of the picture, we set the stage for the real battle."
“Of course it would be better if Third Circle is not that harmed and help us destroying, The Dark Father and Dark Sickle, but I am not sure they will have power to help us.”
Gran, still frowning,
"And what if they don’t take the bait? What if they decide to wait us out or strike elsewhere?"
Sylas’s smile returned,
"Then we go to them. This isn’t just about survival, Gran. It’s about dominance. If they won’t come to us, we’ll hunt them down and show them why challenging us is a mistake they won’t live to repeat."
The room fell silent again, but this time the tension had shifted.
Sylas’s plan was dangerous, but it was also best plan for the time being.
Suntuzel inclined his head.
"As always, your insight is unparalleled, my lord."
Sylas waved a hand dismissively.
"Flattery won’t win the battle, Suntuzel. But your foresight might have just saved us from walking into a trap. For that, you have my thanks."
The others nodded in agreement,
Sylas’s gaze swept across the room,
"Prepare yourselves. This isn’t just a battle—it’s a war on multiple fronts. And we will win."
-
Chapter 42
-
The intense clash between the Frost Elves and the Third Circle Mages showed no signs of finishing.
The corridor reverberated with the sounds of crackling magic, shattered barriers, and the cries of combatants.
The Frost Elves stood as a united front, their strategy revolving around the use of aura spells—low-powered yet stacking area-of-effect enchantments that steadily wore down the mages of Third Circle.
These spells created a persistent drain on the Third Circle Mages’ strength, forcing them into a battle of attrition.
On the other hand, the Third Circle Mages relied on precision and agility.
They cast singular target spells, aiming to overwhelm individual Frost Elves with sheer firepower.
Each mage alternated between launching powerful magical bolts and raising individual protection spells, their shields flashing in response to the Frost Elves’ counterattacks.
The corridor was filled with magical light, as spells collided and dissipated in a chaotic spectacle of energy.
The combat’s confined space amplified the intensity.
Spells ricocheted off the enchanted walls, designed to withstand Level Three magic, limiting the damage to the surroundings but not to the combatants.
Both sides found it difficult to maneuver, and casualties began to mount.
CASUALTIES AND INJURIES
In the first thirty minutes alone, the toll was steep.
The Frost Elves despite their defensive strategy, had lost twenty mages, their bodies either incapacitated or lifeless on the ground.
Another fifteen clutched at wounds, their magic barely keeping them standing.
The Third Circle Mages: Though aggressive in their tactics, they fared no better.
Twenty of their mages had also fallen, their offensive power waning as they struggled to maintain momentum.
Ten of their number bore injuries severe enough to impact their spellcasting.
The cramped battlefield likely prevented even greater losses.
With limited space, large-scale spells were impractical, forcing both sides to rely on mid-range and low-range attacks that required precise aim and timing.
The leaders of both factions barked out orders, their voices barely audible over the cacophony of the ongoing battle.
The Third Circle Mages’ combat leader,
"We need to break through their formation now! The Blue Hope Guardians and Heidrick will arrive soon, and if we’re still tangled up in this fight when they do, we’ll be wiped out!"
His tone was urgent, knowing that their survival depended on speed.
He began directing mages to focus their firepower on key Frost Elves, hoping to create a breach in their defenses.
Frost Elves Leader on the other hand kept the defensive strategy.
"Protect our room and delay them at all costs. The Guardians will arrive soon, and when they do, this will no longer be our battle to fight."
The Third Circle Mages shifted their focus to coordinated attacks.
Groups of three or four targeted individual Frost Elves, combining their spells to overwhelm the enemy’s aura protections.
This tactic began to show results, as isolated Frost Elves were forced to retreat or succumb to the combined assault.
The Frost Elves, in turn, tightened their formation, creating overlapping aura effects that boosted their collective defense.
Their protective strategy made it difficult for the Third Circle to make significant headway, though it left the Frost Elves vulnerable to concentrated firepower.
Both sides began to show signs of strain.
The Third Circle’s offensive strategy required constant spellcasting, depleting their energy reserves, while the Frost Elves’ reliance on sustained aura spells left them vulnerable to attrition over time.
For both factions, the arrival of Blue Hope Guardians loomed like a shadow over their strategies. The Guardians, under Heidrick’s command, were a formidable force, and neither the Frost Elves nor the Third Circle Mages wanted to fight them as it would be clear and direct defeat.
The Third Circle Mages’ leader, growing increasingly desperate, shouted,
"Faster! We don’t have time for this! Push them back now or we’re finished!"
The Frost Elves’ leader, meanwhile, remained calm.
"Stay your ground," he said, his voice cutting through the chaos.
"We are not the aggressors here. The Guardians will see that. Just hold on a little longer."
Despite the fervor on both sides, it became evident that the battle could not sustain itself indefinitely.
Both factions were running out of time and resources.
The Frost Elves’ defensive line remained intact but strained, while the Third Circle Mages had yet to create the decisive breach they needed.
Unbeknownst to both sides, the sound of approaching footsteps and the distant clang of armor signaled the arrival of the Blue Hope Guardians.
Heidrick and his forces were closing in,
The battle was at a critical juncture.
Neither side had achieved their objective, and the arrival of the Guardians would change the dynamic entirely.
For the Frost Elves, the goal was to stall until they could pass responsibility for the fight onto Heidrick’s forces.
For the Third Circle Mages, it was a race against time to achieve victory before being caught in the Guardians’ grip.
As the sound of the approaching Guardians grew louder, the leaders of both factions were forced to make a choice: fight to the bitter end, or retreat before the real storm arrived.