Fyar saw the opening. He turned, ignoring Wilas, and ran towards the large oak door. He stretched out his hand, the purple aura of Neutralize beginning to form, aimed at the pulsing ward.
"You think I’ll let you, dirty dog?!" Wilas roared. He shoved Zaefal aside with brute force and shot a chain of lightning from his left hand towards Fyar’s back.
Zaefal, staggering, saw the attack. He had no time to warn. He leaped forward, putting his body in the path of the lightning chain.
ZZZZZZZZT!
A powerful electric current slammed into Zaefal’s back. His armor cracked and smoked. He was thrown forward, hitting the oak door hard before collapsing to his knees, coughing up blood. His body convulsed for a moment from the shock.
"ZAEFAL!" Fyar shouted. The neutralization process on the door was interrupted. He turned, his eyes blazing with anger, seeing Zaefal severely injured.
Wilas walked slowly towards the helpless Zaefal. His lightning sword crackled, ready to execute. "Foolish sacrifice. You are truly idiots."
At the other end of the corridor, at the top of the stairs, Fyar could see the shadows of the first guards starting to appear. Five. Ten men. They paused for a moment, shocked at the scene before them: two dead elite guards, the injured Zaefal, Wilas ready to kill, and Fyar.
No time. This had to end now. Fyar ignored the approaching guards. He focused on Wilas. He saw Wilas raise his sword to cut down Zaefal.
Fyar lunged forward.
"NEUTRALIZE!" Fresh blood spurted from his mouth after he muttered the word. The overuse was taking its toll.
He then poured all the Neutralize energy he could muster into his katana. The blade glowed bright purple, brighter than before.
Please, one more time. One more time!
Wilas, sensing the strange surge of energy, hesitated slightly. He momentarily lowered his sword to parry Fyar’s attack.
CLANG!
When Fyar’s purple katana met Wilas’s lightning sword, something different happened. The purple energy crawled up, forcing its way into Wilas’s blade. The lightning on Wilas’s sword flickered wildly, then vanished completely.
Wilas felt the power drain from his sword. What is this?! What kind of power is this?! Wait... this is like... Starfall! His power is similar to the Starfall I saw in the Arena! Could it be him! Shock was evident in Wilas’s eyes.
But Fyar didn’t stop. He used the momentum of the clash to twist his katana’s hilt, hooking Wilas’s sword, and pulling it aside. This created a split-second opening in Wilas’s defense.
In that opening, Fyar thrust his katana. The purple blade aimed for Wilas’s right shoulder, where the main muscles for his sword arm were located. The blade instantly pierced through his leather armor.
Wilas roared in pain. He felt a strange cold sensation spread from the wound, as if his energy was being forcibly drained. His entire body felt weak instantly. The lightning magic he was about to summon again from his free hand failed to form. He couldn’t feel his power.
"W-What..." Wilas stared at Fyar in disbelief. "You... fucking Starfall!"
Fyar pulled his katana back.
The guards at the end of the corridor began to shout and run closer. Zaefal, though severely injured, tried to stand, his Void sword ready to block them.
Fyar ignored them. He stepped forward again towards the now vulnerable and wounded Wilas. Wilas tried to lift his heavy-feeling sword, but Fyar was too fast.
Fyar’s katana moved quickly, slashing straight across Wilas’s neck. Wilas’s head snapped back, then his body fell to its knees before collapsing forward with a heavy thud.
The sound of dozens of guards’ footsteps was now loud in the corridor. They were getting closer.
"Fyar! The door!" Zaefal coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his lips, but he stood in front of Wilas’s body, his sword raised, ready to hold back the first wave.
Fyar wasted no time. He turned back to the wooden door, his hand glowing purple again. He pressed it against the pulsing ward. The purple energy devoured the door’s protective magic. Cracks began to appear in the ward. Five seconds. Four.
Cough! Cough!
Fyar coughed up more blood. His lungs felt like they were burning. His body felt light, as if he could pass out at any moment.
The first guards reached Zaefal. The fight resumed. Zaefal held them back desperately with his sword.
Three. Two. The ward shattered! Fyar kicked the door open. Inside, Vorlag was cowering in fear in the corner of the room. Fyar rushed in, pulling out a small syringe from his pocket. He stabbed it into Vorlag’s neck. Vorlag’s eyes rolled back. He collapsed, unconscious.
"ZAEFAL!" Fyar shouted, dragging Vorlag’s limp body.
Zaefal kicked a guard away, then ran backward into the study. Fyar had already taken out the Scroll of Transference.
"BURN IT!"
Fyar and Zaefal quickly lit the corner of the scroll. Just as the first wave of guards stormed into the study, a blinding white light exploded from the scroll.
They vanished. Leaving behind a corridor full of corpses, a chaotic study, and an alarm that continued to shriek into the silence of the night.
The City Guards in blue uniforms and several of Martis’s men in white uniforms stormed in, swords and shields raised. They stopped abruptly in the doorway, their eyes widening in horror at the scene inside.
Wilas’s body lay face down in the middle of the room, a dark pool of blood spreading beneath him onto the expensive carpet. Two elite guard corpses were sprawled near the door. In the corner of the room, Vorlag was gone. Only signs of a struggle remained: overturned furniture, the carpet stained with blood.
A City Guard captain stepped forward cautiously, his sword trembling slightly. He nudged Wilas’s body with the toe of his boot. No reaction.
"OH MY." the captain whispered. He looked back at his men, still frozen in the doorway. "Report! Target is gone! Wilas... Wilas is dead!"
A tense silence filled the room, broken only by the still shrieking alarm and the pounding footsteps of more men running down the corridor. They were too late. The intruders had vanished.