The battlefield, once drowned in the sound of clashing steel and dying screams, stilled for but a moment. The arrival of Gabriel was like a shift in the very fabric of reality—a golden presence that turned heads, ally and enemy alike. The air hummed with electricity, as if the mana around her danced in excitement.

  Byronard, still gripping his zweihander, chuckled as he wiped the blood from his cheek. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about his wound or the ominous figure before him. Instead, he tilted his head toward Gabriel with a lopsided grin.

  “Well, you took your time.” His voice was laced with amusement. “You gonna stand there, or are you actually gonna have some fun?”

  Gabriel clasped her hands together, stretching her arms above her head as if she had just woken from a nap. “Ohh, finally! I was worried you were gonna take all the glory, Captain!” she whined. Her blue eyes then flicked toward Lilith, glimmering with excitement. “She looks fun.”

  Lilith’s lips curled into a smirk, her crimson gaze narrowing. “Fun? My dear, I’m so much more than that.”

  Without warning, Gabriel vanished.

  One moment she was standing beside Byronard, the next—she was inches from Lilith’s face, grinning ear to ear.

  “Boo.”

  Lilith reacted instantly, lashing out with a tendril of shadowy energy. But Gabriel was already gone. A blur of gold flickered across the battlefield as she reappeared at Lilith’s flank, a playful giggle escaping her lips.

  “You’re slooow~” Gabriel teased, balancing effortlessly on the hilt of a fallen soldier’s sword, as if the chaos around them didn’t exist.

  Lilith’s playful demeanor twisted into something colder, her shadows writhing with irritation. “Tch.”

  Gabriel’s laugh rang through the battlefield as she teleported again, her movements too erratic to follow. Each time Lilith lashed out—whether with magic, claws, or shadowy spikes—Gabriel simply wasn’t there.

  Byronard leaned on his sword, watching like a mentor observing his pupil’s practice match. The other soldiers, still locked in combat with the enemy forces, stole glances toward the spectacle. Even Augustus, mid-swing with his lance, muttered in disbelief.

  “She’s toying with it…”

  Silas, dodging an enemy’s strike, laughed breathlessly. “That’s Gabriel for you.”

  High above the battlefield, Emilie narrowed her eyes, analyzing every movement. “It’s not just speed,” she murmured. “She’s teleporting in such small bursts, it’s almost instantaneous… She’s not moving faster than Lilith. She’s just never where Lilith thinks she is.”

  Back on the ground, Gabriel finally struck. She appeared mid-air, above Lilith’s head, and spun into a downward kick. Lilith barely managed to phase out of the way, materializing a few feet back. A crater exploded where Gabriel’s foot landed.

  Lilith’s expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes.

  Frustration.

  Gabriel, still grinning, twirled her twin daggers in her hands, their edges glimmering with golden energy. “Sooo, you just gonna stand there and look pretty, or are you gonna actually fight me?”

  Lilith exhaled, her smirk returning. “Very well, little dove. Let’s see how long you can keep that up.”

  Lilith extended her hand, and the writhing darkness surrounding her coalesced into something more tangible. A whip, black as the void itself, slithered into her grasp like a living serpent. The barbed tip pulsed with an ominous glow, shifting between physical and ethereal states.

  Gabriel tilted her head, intrigued. “Ohhh, now that’s interesting.” She twirled one of her twin daggers between her fingers. “You weren’t planning on keeping that little trick hidden forever, were you?”

  Lilith chuckled, running her fingers along the weapon’s length. “I do enjoy surprises. But I think it’s time we stop playing.”

  With a flick of her wrist, the whip lashed out. Gabriel barely had a moment to react before it was already upon her—an unnatural force of speed and precision. She twisted her body mid-teleport, dodging by a hair’s breadth as the whip tore through the air, carving a deep gash into the stone beneath her.

  A whistle left Gabriel’s lips. “That thing’s got some bite.”

  On the city walls, the warriors watching the battle stood in stunned silence. Even amidst the ongoing war, their gazes flicked toward the duel.

  Flint, still catching his breath from the melee, felt a chill crawl down his spine. He had seen countless warriors, battled alongside the strongest mercenaries and soldiers. And yet—Gabriel was something else.

  “She’s… unlike anyone I’ve ever seen,” he muttered under his breath.

  Augustus, his crown of thorns emblem still gleaming with fresh blood, smirked. “That’s why she’s one of the Seven.”

  Silas, wiping sweat from his brow, snorted. “And you haven’t even seen her serious yet.”

  Emilie, still orchestrating the archers, narrowed her eyes. “The whip isn’t just a weapon… It’s an extension of Lilith herself.”

  Down below, Gabriel flickered in and out of sight, evading strike after strike as Lilith’s whip danced like a sentient beast. Every lash cut through stone and air alike, forcing Gabriel into constant motion. But instead of frustration, she looked… excited.

  “Finally,” she giggled. “Someone who can actually keep up!”

  Lilith’s smirk deepened. “Oh, little dove. I haven’t even started.”

  With a final lash, the whip expanded—splitting into multiple tendrils, reaching for Gabriel from every angle.

  And this time, there was nowhere left to dodge.

  The battlefield collectively held its breath.

  Lilith’s whip, now a writhing mass of shadowy tendrils, descended upon Gabriel. There was no way out, no opening to escape. Soldiers on the walls and on the ground braced themselves, expecting the inevitable—

  But Gabriel was gone.

  Not dodging. Not teleporting to a predictable position.

  She simply… vanished.

  Gasps rang out as warriors frantically searched for her. Flint’s sharp eyes darted across the chaos, but even he couldn’t track her movement.

  Then, a glint.

  At the far end of the battlefield, Gabriel stood unharmed.

  One of her daggers was twirling idly in her hand, while the other was embedded into the ground beside her. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement, as if she had just pulled off a well-practiced trick.

  Lilith’s gaze flickered with mild surprise. “Hoh?”

  The Black Herald wasted no time, lashing out once more, her whip extending toward Gabriel like a viper striking its prey.

  But before it could reach her—

  Gabriel snatched the dagger from the ground and flung it forward.

  The blade whistled through the air, aimed directly at Lilith’s chest.

  Lilith barely acknowledged the attack, shifting her stance ever so slightly, letting the dagger pass by her without needing to teleport away. Her smirk returned, satisfied with how easily she dodged it—

  But then—

  Pain.

  A sharp sting flared across her back, her body jerking forward.

  Lilith’s crimson eyes widened. Impossible.

  Gabriel was behind her.

  Not in front. Not where she threw the dagger.

  But directly behind her.

  And she was already mid-slash.

  Two rapid, merciless cuts tore through Lilith’s side, her dark form momentarily glitching in response. Gabriel danced away before she could counter, twirling her daggers between her fingers with a teasing smile.

  “Caught ya~”

  Lilith’s whip twitched in her grasp, her fingers tightening around its hilt. A slow chuckle rumbled from her throat, despite the blood trickling from her wounds.

  She licked her lips. “Now this is getting interesting.”

  On the city walls, the watching warriors stood in stunned silence.

  Flint exhaled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I take it back… I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  Silas grinned. “Told you.”

  Byronard chuckled, folding his arms. “She’s not even breaking a sweat.”

  Emilie, however, remained focused. "That trick… she didn’t just teleport. She placed her dagger as an anchor—allowing her to instantly warp to its location. That’s why she threw it first."

  Augustus smirked at the ploy. “Smart. And brutal.”

  Gabriel tilted her head, flicking the blood off her blades. “So? Still just standing there, or are we actually fighting now?”

  Lilith exhaled, eyes narrowing. Then—she smiled.

  "Very well, little dove."

  The ground rumbled.

  Dark energy pulsed from Lilith’s form, and the air grew heavy with something far more sinister than before.

  The air grew thick—as if the battlefield itself was suffocating under an unseen pressure.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  Lilith exhaled, her smirk widening. Her black attire rippled like liquid shadow, shifting and reshaping until it clung to her form like a second skin. The material slithered over her arms, her shoulders, and her legs, melding into a sinister, organic armor.

  Her eyes glowed brighter, her presence warping into something far more monstrous.

  Gabriel’s expression finally shifted.

  For the first time since the battle began— she assumed a fighting stance.

  Her playful aura faded as her daggers gleamed in her grip, her muscles tensing in anticipation.

  Lilith lifted her whip, the weapon shuddering as it morphed into a blade—a wickedly curved sword with jagged edges, humming with dark energy.

  And then—

  A tendril shot out from behind Gabriel.

  Her instincts screamed, and she barely managed to twist away— but not fast enough.

  A thin line of red appeared on her cheek.

  For a moment, Gabriel stood still, processing what had just happened. The battlefield watched as blood slowly trickled down her face.

  Then—it began.

  The tendrils came from every direction.

  Gabriel’s form flickered, teleporting wildly across the battlefield, slashing them away as fast as they came. Each time she cut one down, another tore through the air toward her.

  For the first time, Gabriel was on the defensive.

  Near the gates, Flint tightened his grip on his weapon. “She’s—”

  “She’s struggling,” Silas muttered, eyes narrowing.

  Augustus took a step forward. “We should—”

  Byronard’s booming voice cut through their concern.

  “Stand down.”

  The others looked at him, surprised at his firm tone.

  Byronard didn’t even glance at them. His eyes were fixed on the battle, his posture relaxed.

  “If you jump in now,” he continued, “you’ll only get in the way.”

  Lilith laughed.

  “My, my~ what happened to that cheeky little girl from earlier?” she teased, her tendrils coiling like vipers.

  Gabriel stopped teleporting.

  She stood a few feet away, her breath steady, the same playful glint returning to her blue eyes.

  Then, she smiled.

  “This should be enough.”

  Before Lilith could react, Gabriel threw both her daggers straight at her.

  Lilith’s lips curled. Predictable.

  She raised her sword, prepared to phase away the moment Gabriel teleported behind her.

  But Gabriel didn’t move.

  Instead of teleporting, the daggers exploded.

  A shockwave rocked the battlefield. Flames and energy burst outward, swallowing Lilith whole. The surrounding enemies were blasted away, shrieking as the force sent them tumbling.

  Flint and the others stared in shock.

  “What—” Emilie’s eyes widened. “Those daggers—”

  Silas let out a sharp laugh. “By the Divines. She just—”

  Lilith staggered backward from the blast, her armor smoking, her expression twisted in shock.

  Gabriel was already in front of her.

  Lilith’s crimson eyes barely had time to register the movement before Gabriel struck.

  A blur of rapid, ruthless slashes tore through Lilith’s defenses. Each movement was precise, calculated, relentless.

  Lilith stumbled, her tendrils too slow to react.

  For the first time—she was confused.

  Near the gates to where the other heads had gathered, the regent chuckled, crossing his arms.

  “Looks like she finally mastered it.”

  Byronard watched the battle unfold, his smirk never fading.

  Emilie had come down from the city walls, weaving through the battlefield as she took in the battle up close. Flint, meanwhile, was in the thick of the front lines, cutting down invaders who managed to break past the initial defenses. Despite the chaos surrounding them, all eyes flickered toward the duel between Gabriel and Lilith.

  Silas, slicing an enemy across the chest, turned his attention briefly to Byronard. “You sound awfully relaxed for someone watching a comrade fight a freak of nature.”

  Byronard exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You lot don’t get it, do you?” He shifted his zweihander onto his shoulder, his tone filled with certainty. “Gabriel isn’t just fast. She’s an anomaly.”

  Silas raised an eyebrow. “Anomaly?”

  Byronard glanced at him. “Mana foundations shape how an awakened one uses their power. Some get elemental control, some get raw enhancements, and some, like Gabriel, get something entirely different.” He gestured toward the battlefield, where Gabriel had just vanished again, reappearing behind Lilith with a faint pulse of energy rippling in her wake.

  “Teleportation is her foundation. A rare one. One of the rarest, actually.” Byronard’s voice carried a weight of respect. “The basics of her magic allow her to teleport anywhere within her line of sight. The farther she goes, the more mana it takes—and the longer it takes to manifest at the destination.”

  Augustus, driving his lance through an enemy, turned his head slightly. “But she’s teleporting constantly without pause.”

  “Exactly,” Byronard confirmed, his smirk growing. “Gabriel figured something out no one else has. By teleporting rapidly in close spaces, she builds up enough kinetic mana to create shockwaves.” He lifted a finger. “That explosion you saw? That was her using the second layer of her power, which most of us take a considerable amount of time to achieve.”

  Emilie’s brows furrowed as she processed the information. “That means…”

  “She can store that energy,” Silas murmured, realization dawning on him.

  Byronard nodded. “And then she learned the third layer.” He motioned to Gabriel’s twin daggers. “Those blades are marked weapons. They allow her to direct that stored energy into a controlled burst. She can make it explode, release it as raw force, or even use it to enhance her own movements.”

  Augustus let out a low whistle. “So that’s why you picked her for the Seven.”

  Byronard’s grin widened. “No. I picked her because, after Alaric, she’s the greatest prodigy we’ve ever seen.”

  A stunned silence settled over them.

  Then—

  The air changed.

  They all felt it.

  A pressure that seized the battlefield.

  It came not from Lilith—but from Gabriel.

  A radiant aura flared around her, golden and wild, flickering like a playful storm. The energy crackled, distorting the space around her.

  Even among mana users, aura was something rarely seen. Only a few in history had ever achieved this feat—Sir Byronard himself, Lord Dunwick, and Lady Tryst Huntingborne’s uncle. It was a measure of true strength, an indicator of how powerful the old generation was. And now, before their very eyes, Gabriel was proving herself to be among them.

  Silas clenched his jaw. “What… is this?”

  Byronard’s expression softened, his eyes gleaming with something close to pride.

  “Aura.”

  Emilie inhaled sharply. “She—she’s unlocked it?!”

  Byronard nodded. “It’s something only a handful of awakened can achieve. Not even all the Great Houses have warriors skilled enough to reach this level.” He chuckled. “And yet, there she is.”

  Lilith stood still, her crimson eyes narrowing. The battlefield was eerily quiet. Even the enemy soldiers, even the beasts, had paused.

  Gabriel rolled her shoulders, completely unfazed by the pressure she was radiating.

  Then—she grinned.

  Despite the overwhelming force of her aura, despite the immense weight pressing on everyone’s shoulders, there was something playful about it.

  Something uniquely hers.

  Lilith’s gaze flickered, assessing her opponent. Her lips parted slightly as she whispered, almost to herself—

  “What are you?”

  Gabriel tilted her head, tapping her chin in mock thought before flashing a wink.

  “Just someone who really, really likes to have fun.”

  The next moment—she moved.

  The battlefield erupted once more.

  Gabriel's twin daggers were a blur as she pressed her attack, her speed and precision overwhelming Lilith at every turn. Blow for blow, the two clashed in a deadly dance, the sound of steel cutting through air and armor filling the battlefield. Gabriel, her mana flaring with the force of a storm, dodged tendrils, avoided strikes, and struck back with lethal efficiency.

  Lilith’s dark armor had begun to crack under the relentless assault. Her confidence, once unwavering, began to falter. The taunting smile she wore at the beginning of the fight had long since disappeared, replaced with a scowl of frustration.

  For the first time, Gabriel saw a flicker of uncertainty in the Black Herald’s eyes.

  The two circled each other, each awaiting the other's next move. Gabriel, with her playful grin, seemed to thrive in the heat of battle, her every movement infused with both skill and an almost mischievous joy. Lilith, however, had begun to slow, her attacks becoming more desperate.

  The battlefield itself seemed to shift around them. The enemy forces were fading, their bodies crumbling into ash as if some unseen hand was calling them back into the void from which they came. The army, once so strong, was dissipating under the weight of Gabriel's onslaught.

  Byronard, observing from the sidelines, turned to the others. "This is it," he said, his voice low but filled with conviction. "Gabriel’s magic is overpowering Lilith's. She’s almost finished."

  As if on cue, Lilith, sensing defeat closing in, attempted to retreat. With a furious cry, she gathered her magic and prepared to teleport away.

  But Gabriel was ready.

  With the flick of her wrist, one of her twin daggers flew through the air, striking Lilith in the thigh and disrupting her teleportation spell. Lilith’s form flickered, but she remained in place, her body shaking with rage and disbelief.

  Gabriel approached, her smile widening. "You know, that was fun," she said, her voice light and playful despite the brutality of the fight. "But now, you owe us some answers. It's time for some interrogation."

  Lilith's eyes blazed with fury, and before Gabriel could react, crimson tendrils shot out from her body, laced with poison. It was a final, desperate attempt to destroy her opponent and escape.

  But then, something unexpected happened.

  A mark appeared over Lilith, glowing with an eerie energy. The tendrils stopped in midair, disappearing as if they had never existed.

  The battlefield fell silent, and all eyes turned to the source of the mark.

  Raphael, another member of the Seven, stepped forward, his presence radiating calm assurance. He gave Lilith a knowing smirk. "Chamuel taught me this," he said, his voice cool. "A little trick to silence nuisances."

  Lilith’s eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening to scream—but no sound came out. The muffling mark had silenced her completely.

  Emilie, seizing the opportunity, quickly retrieved a bundle of strings laced with Aetherbane—a material known for its ability to suppress mana—and threw them around Lilith, binding her tightly. Lilith writhed, furious, but her struggles were in vain.

  Byronard nodded in approval, his voice commanding. "Demetrius, take her to the castle prisons. This battle is over. The day is ours."

  The defenders, having witnessed the fall of the Black Herald, erupted into cheers. The battle was won, but the victory felt hollow in the face of the questions still unanswered.

  Byronard looked over to Demetrius, who had taken Lilith into custody, his expression hardening. “We’ve won today, but this is just the beginning. We need answers, and Lilith is our only lead.”

  The other heads of the Great Houses—Marius, Hans, Charlotte, Tryst, and Menethil—gathered around Byronard, their expressions serious.

  “This was no mere attack,” Byronard continued, his voice low and measured. “Someone is orchestrating this invasion from the shadows, and I’m certain Lilith knows more than she’s letting on. We can’t afford to waste time.” His gaze swept over them. “We need to find out who is really behind this.”

  Marius, his brow furrowed in concern, nodded in agreement. "We'll need to interrogate her immediately. If anyone knows what's coming next, it's her."

  Charlotte clenched her fists, her normally composed demeanor tinged with urgency. "So that was the Black Herald? She was something else, but if we can break her, she'll tell us everything we need to know."

  Tryst added, her voice tight with determination, "And if there are others like her, we need to stop them before they strike again. This is far from over."

  Byronard’s eyes darkened. “Exactly. We’ll prepare for the worst while we get what we can from Lilith. She may have lost the battle, but she hasn’t lost everything yet. Once we have answers, we can plan our next move.”

  Emilie, still standing nearby, shot a respectful glance at Gabriel, who had a playful smile on her face despite the intensity of the battle. “The victory was yours, Gabriel. Now, let's make sure we follow through and find out who is behind this invasion.”

  Gabriel grinned. "Let’s get to it then. I’m ready for whatever comes next."

  Flint, his armor battered and bloodied from the frontlines, stepped forward with a grim expression. “The battle’s over, but something doesn’t feel right. I’ve seen a lot of things, but this... this is different. Whoever’s pulling the strings behind all this—they’re not done yet.” His voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable wariness in his eyes.

  Silas, cleaning his throwing axes as he joined the conversation, nodded. The chains attached to the axes clicked with a rhythmic sound as he retracted them back to his side. “I agree with Flint. We may have won the fight, but the real enemy is still out there, lurking. Whoever's orchestrating this won’t let us off that easy.” His gaze turned to Byronard, his eyes narrowing. “We can’t afford to take Lilith’s capture lightly. Whatever she knows, it’s going to lead us to something bigger.”

  Augustus, his heavy lance still in hand, added his thoughts. “I’ll fight to the bitter end, but we’ve got to consider the bigger picture. They’re out there, plotting, and they’ll strike again. If we don’t get answers, it’ll be more than just us caught in their web next time.”

  Byronard nodded in agreement. “Exactly. The battle may be over, but the war is far from won. We need to know who’s behind this, and we’ll extract whatever answers we can from Lilith.”

  With the conversation settling, the group moved toward the castle, where Lilith was being taken into custody for interrogation. But as they did, in the far distance, hidden in the trees, a dark figure watched the aftermath with cold, calculating eyes. His gaze followed the group, tracking their movements, before he turned away. There was a subtle eagerness in his step, as if he couldn't wait to deliver the news of the day's events—and what would come next.