Complex sigils of light shimmered across a circular magic array. Six radiant arrays overlapped in sets of six, forming thirty-six interlocking cogs, which then transformed into a three-dimensional structure.

Dozens of magic circles shaped like a colossal sphere glowed before Karnak’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but marvel. Wow... so you can construct spells like that too?

Even during his days as the Monarch of Death, he had always admired the powers of archmages. But now, having chosen to live as a mage himself, he truly understood just how staggering their abilities were.

Compared to this, my necromantic magic feels downright crude.

The amplified magic drew draconic mana from the scattered dragon bones and began to gather it at the center, right where Diogres stood at the heart of the formation.

"Good. It worked," Diogres said, satisfied, and began condensing the draconic mana.

Seventy-two magical needles shimmered as they seeped into his body one by one. These slender wedges of dragon energy burrowed into the sealing spell that had locked away his magic, gradually unraveling it.

I can’t rush this. If he drove in all the wedges at once, his body wouldn’t be able to withstand it. But I can’t take my time, either.

If he went too slow, the seal’s regenerative properties would expel the dragon energy wedges before they could do their work.

"Now, pierce and unravel," he muttered.

Diogres continued the delicate ceremony to break the seal, maintaining a careful balance between danger and control.

Three more to go...

Once he released those, the resurrection of Archmage Diogres Kolon, Master of the Tower of Dawn, would be complete. Suddenly, a sharp whistling sound came from above. Desteran and Karnak’s group were standing outside the barrier, acting as Diogres’s guard. All of them instinctively looked up—then froze.

What?

What is that?

Something dazzling streaked across the night sky like a falling star. It was a sword, radiating light and hurtling toward the magical barrier. It was moving so fast that the moment they realized what it was, it had already reached them.

A brutal explosion tore through the earth, and a section of the barrier shattered. Diogres spat blood. It was caused by a backlash of mana. The disrupted magic had recoiled and flowed violently into the caster.

"Master Diogres!" Serati shouted while preparing to rush toward him.

"Don’t come any closer! You’ll break the spell!" Diogres quickly stopped her and scrambled to stabilize the magic circuit, swallowing blood as he trembled.

"What just happened...?"

Another whistling sound cut through the air, and another blazing sword shot toward them from above.

Desteran sprang into action. "Ha!"

He unleashed his aura chains toward the incoming blade of light. The chains twisted and interlocked into a massive net of aura. The sword of light struck the net, and a violent detonation rippled through the atmosphere.

Landing back on the ground through the swirling dust, Desteran shouted, "It’s an aura blade! Someone’s firing aura blades from long range!"

Karnak and the others were stunned.

From long range?

Where?

They weren’t here to spectate. They were assigned to protect Diogres, and they had been on high alert since the start.

We were monitoring the entire perimeter.

So where is someone firing these blades from?!

Again, the whistling rose into the air, and it was accompanied by a volley of radiant swords. This time, there were five of them.

"Damn it!"

"Everyone, intercept them!"

The entire group launched into the air. Fortunately, there were five aura users on their side as well. Each one took a sword and intercepted the assault without hitch. One after another, five thunderous blasts erupted in the night.

Landing back on the ground, Serati turned her head toward the far end of the island. "My god... so that’s where they’re firing from..."

Thanks to leaping into the air, they were able to spot the source of the aura blades. Their surveillance of the island had been perfect, but it was limited to only the island. As it turned out, the attacks weren’t coming from the island at all. They were being fired from the sea beyond its shores.

Leven squinted toward the pitch-black ocean, clearly in disbelief. "They launched sword aura... from there?"

Dragon Isle wasn’t especially large, but it still had forests and even a central mountain. Even from where they stood to the coastline was no small distance. And these sword aura weren’t coming from the shore, but from somewhere farther out at sea.

"That’s gotta be at least four kilometers," Leven muttered. "How can you fire sword aura that far?"

Desteran clicked his tongue. "It’s not impossible."

Varos nodded in agreement. "If we’re talking about someone at the level of a martial king, it’s very doable."

He would know. Back when he was the death knight lord, he had fired blades of darkness across several kilometers himself. Anyone who had reached the gold-tier could manage such a feat. Even so, there was still something that didn’t quite add up.

Desteran pointed it out. "Sure, a martial king could launch a sword that far. But wouldn’t the margin of error be hundreds of meters?"

At that kind of range, precision was an entirely different matter. Even a deviation of just one centimeter at the source would translate to massive misalignment on impact.

"No martial king, no matter how skilled, should be capable of such delicate aura control over that distance," said Desteran.

Varos shook his head. "There’s one martial king who can."

Physically, women often faced inherent disadvantages compared to men. So, among those who reached the highest levels, female aura users tended to possess extraordinary aura control, to make up for what they lacked in brute strength. They had to be that precise, or they’d never make it to the same rank in the first place.

And Varos knew one such woman with godlike aura manipulation. He was talking about the Martial King of Cyphras, Lapicel Crotium.

Of course, that Lapicel was standing right beside him, her mouth agape like the rest of them, shocked by the technique she was witnessing.

Still... there’s one other person who could pull this off in this era, right?

Desteran quickly understood the implication behind Varos’s words. "So the Holy Sword of the Cult... that’s who it is..."

He didn’t know about Lapicel, but he did know of a monster—a martial king whose physical prowess was the weakest among her peers, yet who stood on equal footing with them thanks to her absurd mastery of aura control.

"Is it Beltia?"

***

She exhaled softly. Steadying her breath, she extended both hands forward. Dozens of longswords stood planted in the deck. From among them, nine blades lifted into the air.

The woman, Beltia, brought her hands together at her chest. "Go."

In that moment, the energy around her condensed and transferred into the nine blades.

"Pierce." With her quiet command, the radiant swords split the air.

Even from such an absurd distance, the necromancers of the Cult of the Black God could see the streaks of light clearly. They stared with disbelief.

Is that really going to land?

Even if she is a martial king...

Can she really hit a target from this far away?

It was the dead of night, and Dragon Isle lay cloaked in deep darkness. Through that pitch-black veil, the streaks of light surged forward, and vanished in an explosive burst. The scene didn’t look any different from the ones before.

But Beltia’s expression had darkened. "They blocked it again."

"Pardon?"

"I don’t think Sir Desteran is the only one over there," she said, eyes fixed on the far side of Dragon Isle. "I can’t say for sure, but there is at least one other aura user who is on par with him. And there are probably two or three more who are quite skilled."

She focused briefly, then shook her head. "That’s about as much as I can sense from this distance."

The cultists stared blankly toward Dragon Isle. In the dead of night, everything was cloaked in black. At most, they could make out the rough outline of the island.

One of the cultist asked, "Are you saying you can see that far from here?"

Beltia furrowed her brow. "See? In this darkness?"

The cultist continued, "Then... you mean you can sense them without seeing?"

Her answer only confused them further. "What exactly am I supposed to sense if I can’t see them?"

The cultist asked, "What are you talking about?"

As if it were nothing, Beltia murmured, "Even if you can’t see them, even if you can’t feel them, they’re there. And if they’re there, you can know."

No one had any idea what that meant. Was this what the world looked like to one who’d earned the title of martial king?

Beltia didn’t care if the cultists understood or not.

"This was only meant to buy time, after all..." Her full attention was locked on Dragon Isle. "Looks like we’ve bought just enough."

She made a small gesture with her hand. "Please prepare it."

The cultists asked for clarification. "Ma’am?"

"We must now deliver the will of Lord Tesranach," she answered them.

Finally understanding, the cultists scrambled to activate necromancy. "Yes, ma’am."

Around the decrepit ship, darkness gathered and began to take the shape of massive, black stingrays. They were airborne undead beasts conjured through necromancy, Black Mantas. They didn’t last long, but their speed was exceptional. With this spell, they could reach deep into the island within minutes.

Still... if we just fly straight in, they’re bound to retaliate.

Flying targets were easy prey. For safe passage, they would have to thoroughly distract the defenders. Beltia brought her hands together again. Thankfully, there were still plenty of longswords planted in the deck.

With this many, there’s no need for precision targeting.

Waves of aura rippled out across the deck, pulling all remaining swords from the wood and lifting them into the air.

"Go."

With a strange vibration, the blades aligned themselves, all points angled skyward.

"Pierce."

Dozens of radiant blades streaked through the night sky like meteors, slashing brilliant lines across the black heavens.

***

Landing on the ground, Desteran let out a long breath. "Whew... this is bad."

This time, nine aura blades had flown in. Each one was precisely aimed at Diogres’s protective array. But they had managed to block them, though barely. Desteran and Varos each intercepted two. Serati, Leven, Lapicel, Karnak, and even Milia handled the rest, just enough to counter the assault.

But if that number increased even slightly, they wouldn’t be able to stop it. The issue wasn’t the strength of the aura blades. It was the sheer area they had to defend. They weren’t protecting a person or a point, but the entire magical array surrounding Diogres, which spanned dozens of meters.

"Is the ritual not complete yet, Master Diogres?"

Desteran’s question was met with a frustrated reply.

"I have to restore the shattered parts of the array!"

"Well then, hurry it up!" Desteran shouted irritably again, just as he glanced back toward the sky, and immediately cursed. "Damn it all..."

A rain of sword aura—dozens of them—was pouring from the sky. There was no way they could stop them this time. There were simply too many.

Varos spun to Karnak in a panic. "Young master! Do something!"

Karnak shouted, "It’s impossible! The area’s too wide to cover!"

Even as an 8th circle mage, there was no way he could cast mana barriers over an area spanning dozens of meters.

No... but maybe this will work.

Karnak gave up on using a barrier and opted for a different approach.

"Necromantic arts: Spiraling Fox Orbs!"

There was a saying in this world: If it flies, it can be shot down. Because of the nature of magic, interception spells had developed far beyond flight spells. The skies belonged to the defenders.

Of course, even the best interception spell couldn’t take down dozens of radiant swords flying at supersonic speed...

But I’ve dealt with worse than this!

Dozens of fox orbs surged into the air, linked tail to tail in a blazing chain. They then burst outward, scattering in all directions, homing in on the incoming sword aura. The entire night sky lit up with a cascade of brilliant explosions.

Diogres, watching from within the array, stared wide-eyed in shock. He calculated every projectile’s trajectory and velocity in that brief instant, reverse-plotted them into pre-cast detonations, and brought them all down? I couldn’t have done that myself!

Thanks to that, the protective array was spared further damage. But the party didn’t look relieved. Through the thick haze of smoke and light, figures began to emerge. The cultists of the Dark God had already arrived.

Taking advantage of the barrage of sword aura, they had succeeded in making their way. Now they slowly descended from the sky aboard their black manta-shaped flying constructs, hovering above the array.

At the forefront stood a woman in her forties. She looked plain at first glance, but she was unmistakably formidable.

Desteran looked up at her coldly and muttered under his breath. "It’s been a while... Beltia."