"Huh...?"

The confused sound came from a young priest standing at the edge of the rear line.

His hand held a glowing prayer scroll, but his eyes weren’t on the battlefield, they were on the sand behind them.

"What is it?" asked another priest beside him, not looking up from the battlefield below. The holy light pulsing from his palms flickered faintly.

"I-It’s just..." the first priest hesitated, leaning closer to the ground. "None of us went back inside the tent, right? Then why are there footprints leading toward it?"

The second priest finally lifted his head, frowning. The red sand of the valley was littered with prints, most leading outwards toward the battle.

But a faint line of light and fading imprints clearly trailed the opposite way... straight toward the large white tent in the middle of the healer’s camp.

He stared for a moment, then sighed heavily and rubbed his temple.

"You’ve been reading too many detective novels again, haven’t you?" he muttered, narrowing his tired eyes in boredom.

"A bit... haha," the first priest replied with a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.

Before they could say another word, a furious voice thundered from the front line.

"You two imbeciles!"

Both priests froze instantly. Their captain, a burly priest with a scar running across his cheek and a massive golden cross hanging from his neck, was glaring at them.

"Are you chatting ," he roared, "while our comrades are sacrificing their lives to purge evil from this cursed land!?"

The two priests snapped straight, nearly dropping their scrolls.

"S-Sir! We’re sorry! We sinners have no excuse!" they shouted together in panic.

"God will forgive anyone who atones through service!" the captain barked back. "Now stop wasting breath and get your asses back to healing!"

"Yes, sir!" they echoed, bowing low before turning back to their work, both thinking the same thing. How the hell did he even hear us from there?

The faint golden glow around them pulsed brighter as they refocused. Each priest stood in a neat line, thin cords of light trailing from the large white tent at their backs to their chests.

The cords, called Prismal Conduits, shimmered with holy radiance.

Through them, glowing particles of energy flowed like liquid light, seeping into the priests’ skin through the pores where the cords were attached.

The particles merged with their flesh, disappearing under the surface as divine light flared in their eyes.

The wounded soldiers from the battlefield before them healed as their burns and cuts sealed shut, skin knitting together like time rewinding.

"Praise the Saint’s grace..." one of the healed soldiers whispered weakly, gripping his sword again, before going to cut the orc that nearly killed him.

The priests breathing grew heavier with every heal. They could feel the toll, the faint chill creeping into their limbs, the subtle tightening in their chest.

The Prismal Conduit was the empire’s newest miracle, after all, an artifact said to turn the lifeforce of its user into pure mana. As long as one didn’t use it for too long, the changes to the body were almost unnoticeable.

Unnoticable... Until there is no reversing the condition.

The Empire promoted it as the gift of the gods, a sacred tool that let even the weakest priest perform holy miracles.

Only the top brass and few vigilantes know of its venomous effects.

********

"This is the last one," Lydia muttered under her breath as she crouched beside a glowing blue crystal inside the large white tent. Her skill Phantom cloak (S) active.

The air hummed with quiet energy, the light from the crystal pulsing across her face.

She carefully placed a small, beetle-shaped artifact on its surface.

Lydia turned her skill off as the bug glowed faintly for a moment, then shifted its color to match the crystal, perfectly camouflaged.

Lydia exhaled softly, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

"Now, all that’s left is—"

Her words cut off.

A cold shiver crawled down her spine.

A dark shadow stretched across the tent wall behind her.

Before she could react, a sharp spike burst from the shadow’s body, slicing through the air with a shrrk!

Lydia twisted her body and jumped back, landing hard on her palms before rolling to her feet. The spike stabbed into the floor where she had been kneeling just seconds ago.

"Did you think no one would guard the sacred healer camp from you vile creatures?"

The shadow stepped into the light of the crystal, revealing a tall man clad in dark metallic armor. His red hair shimmered faintly like fire, and a longsword hung at his waist.

Lydia straightened, brushing the dust off her cloak. "You found me," she said, smirking as if she’d just been caught in a harmless prank.

Another spike shot out from the ground at where she stood. She dodged, flipping backward and landing near the tent’s flap.

"As much as I’d love to kill you," she said, her tone light and mocking, "you’re not my target. Cheers! You get to live a little longer, Kevin."

She turned on her heel and sprinted out of the tent.

Kevin’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding. Flames burst from his palm and shot forward like a stream from a flamethrower, chasing after her.

Lydia dropped low and slid on the red sand outside, sparks scattering as her boots scraped the ground.

"Catch her!" Kevin roared.

At once, the guards nearby turned in alarm, drawing their weapons. The priests, who had been healing soldiers moments ago, froze in confusion.

Lydia only grinned. "Sorry, boys."

She threw a small green sphere at them.

"Barrier!" shouted the priest captain.

A golden shield flared to life just in time, the green bomb exploded mid-air, spilling out a thick, misty green gas.

Kevin burst through the tent flap, his sword blazing with heat. With one wide swing, he summoned a swirling wall of fire.

The flames sucked in the green gas, rising high before vanishing in an instant. The air cleared.

"Search for her!" he ordered sharply, scanning the camp.

The guards scattered, shouting to one another as they ran in all directions. Kevin’s eyes swept across the valley, but there was no sign of her. He took a step, then stopped, his expression darkening.

"I should inform Merin," he muttered, voice low. "Something’s off about her behavior."

He turned and began walking toward the cliffside path that led down to Merin’s camp.

Behind a large boulder, a faint shimmer in the air flickered, and then Lydia appeared, her Phantom Cloak (S) skill active.

"Hehe~," she chuckled softly, watching Kevin’s retreating figure.

"Run to her, Kevin," she whispered, her grin widening. "After all... that’s the goal."

As she stepped out from behind the boulder, a group of guards rushed past, none of them noticing her at all. The air rippled faintly around her form as she vanished into the wind.

Name: Kevin

Threat Rank: 5

Attribute: Fire

Class: Warrior (Novice Aura)

Matchup: Tugnier

**************

Commander! Commander Tugnier!"

A young orc burst into the dimly lit cave, his chest heaving, sweat and dust clinging to his green skin.

Tugnier stood at the center, polishing the edge of his colossal club, the weapon so large that even the orc beside him looked like a child next to it. The faint blue veins pulsed beneath the club’s surface, humming like a living thing.

The orc soldier dropped to one knee, gasping for air.

"Huff... the signal! The green gas followed by a large flame whirlwind! It appeared!"

Tugnier’s eyes flicked toward him. He set the club against his shoulder and exhaled slowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"She was quicker than expected," he said, rolling his neck until it cracked. "Good."

He gave one last glance at the dark walls around him, then began walking toward the cave’s mouth.

"Stay here," he ordered, though the other orcs already knew they wouldn’t dare follow him to Merin and be a burden.

As Tugnier stepped out, sunlight cut across his face. He squinted, raising a thick arm to shield his eyes from the sudden bright light. The battlefield stretched before him.

A storm of chaos and steel. Orcs and humans clashed in the blood-colored sand, their cries merging into one endless roar.

"Well... it’s time," he muttered.

He took a step forward. The ground trembled beneath his weight.

The orcs who saw him instantly stopped mid-fight, backing away with wide eyes. Even the humans hesitated. Tugnier’s true form wasn’t just large, It was massive.

His body stood like a mountain draped in muscle and scarred armor, his skin marked with glowing thunder sigils.

Then the air around his legs began to spark, faint at first, then violently bright.

"Shields up, Men!" Tugnier shouted.

Orcs instinctively raised their defenses. The battlefield froze for a heartbeat, the tension thick.

Then.

BOOM!

A deafening shockwave exploded outward as Tugnier launched himself into the air. The impact cracked the ground like shattered glass.

The gust that followed tossed human soldiers through the air like rag dolls.

For an instant, everything went silent. Dust and blood hung in the air. Even the raging wind seemed to pause.

Across the battlefield, Quinn’s eyes caught the flash of lightning in the sky. Her smirk softened, her voice low and calm despite the chaos.

"Stay safe," she murmured, the faintest warmth slipping into her tone.

"Umm... I would like your attention here, miss," said the old man before her politely, sword gleaming.

"Damn, you’re annoying," Quinn replied, eyes still fixed on the sky.

High above, Tugnier’s massive shadow loomed over the field. His body cut through the air like a falling meteor, thunder cracking in his wake.

And strangely... not a single arrow was fired at him. Not one spell was cast. No human dared even look directly at him.

There were two reasons for that.

First: If I saw a creature thrice my height, five times my weight, flying overhead while carrying a club larger and heavier than me... I would just go home.

Second: Merin had issued an order to all squads, and every soldier. "If you see a massive orc with thunder-colored aura and a weapon the size of a carriage, treat him like air. Even if he charges straight at you."

When asked why, her answer was simple:

"Because there’s nothing you can do anyway."

Name: Merin

Threat Rank: 1

Attribute: Wind

Class: Inquisitor (Master (IV) Aura)

Matchup: Tugnier