Amidst disarray, a shockwave spewed, generating a massive torrent of wind that sent every knight, even while equipped with their heavy armor, to the nearest wall like ragged dolls.
Every knight except Ezekiel Alpheus. The young man wondered why he wasn't affected. On top of that, his skin felt warm and... Unassailable.
"Your Highness," he murmured under his breath as he recuperated from shock.
He lifted his hand to block the ongoing tempest rage. The heavy seats and tables, made of gold, steel, or even wood stood no chance against the current.
Ezekiel's eyes skimmed through the chaos for the Empress across the room. There he saw Her Highness with her palm facing him even though her eyes were fixed on someone else much more important.
Her eyes... She was... Terrified, distressed, yet there were concern and fondness, full of... Love. Ezekiel wondered how could one eyes' carry so many emotions at once.
It didn't take much to know who she was looking at. As Ezekiel followed her gaze, he found the Magician was buried alive under bricks, books, and bits of the blast in the corner of the hall by the shelves.
He didn't know where the feeling came from, but he started to feed on the fact that the Magician was in his weakening state and maybe... Just maybe it was his time to shine. To show Her Highness that-
"MY LOVE!! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"
The way the Empress called her rightful spouse was like a slap that Ezekiel could never get over.
"It... Tickles, that's all..." came a weak reply from under the piles of books. "But thank you for your concern, Your Highness... Not that I needed help..."
The young duke secretly hated how overconfident the mage could be.
"Just Shut up you stupid idiot! Get out of there!"
"I'm trying, okay?!"
Ezekiel highly doubted the first energy ray that struck Lucas did anything to him at all with that bright golden circle that resembled the sun that had shielded him.
No... The young Duke could recognize the mana despite not being a magic wielder. The same trace of mana around his body was the same as the one on Lucas'.
"Very Impressive, Your Highness. You deflected the first attack nicely," the old man praised as he brushed the dust off his silk that was caused by a hole in the building above his head.
"I would be disappointed if you were to die with a little bit of a warm-up. Because I have high expectations for someone who the Black Tower Magician chooses to court with."
The old duke turned to smile at Ezekiel despite having an ongoing conversation with Athanasia, "But not everyone wishes for your death, Your Highness. You are loved by many. Your people... Your Knights... Even your dukes."
Ezekiel wasn't sure if he could handle the heartache and a reminder that he lost the battle to Lucas, but something inside of him just wanted the Empress safe and out of this battlefield.
"Your Highness!! We have to leave!!" Ezekiel shouted at the top of his lungs so that his voice could reach her.
The old mage started generating another handful of mana. "Or you all can die here together. Let's start with this young man."
Another wave of mana exploded and Ezekiel watched in horror as a crescent light headed his way. It was coming at him fast. He highly doubted he could block it. Despite fearing death, the young Duke couldn't do anything about it.
But once again, before the deadly ray could touch him, it was stopped by another golden shield that was made of magic, and the energy blast scattered everywhere, slicing up tables and shelves but not the young Duke.
Ezekiel slowly turned his head to his protector and she was waiting for him with a smile; he flinched, knowing what she was about to do. He dug his heel deep into the ground, preparing for a sprint.
With just one flick of the Empress' finger, Ezekiel's body grew and he could only watch as many of his knights started to float from the ground as if gravity never existed.
"I'm not leaving my husband here, Duke Alpheus. This is our battle."
"YOUR HIGHNESS! NO!!"
"You should leave."
Ezekiel saw nothing but white flares as he grasped on nothing but thin air. A split second later, he was on the soft surface of the earth, a grass field exactly in the backyard of his home.
"I should leave... huh..." he mumbled to himself, ignoring the footsteps of his soldiers who were rallying for transportation back to the castle.
He knew They didn't need much use for the knight. The Imperial Magician had completely undone all the system of military power and replaced the soldiers with magic abilities. They were much more useful than the knight, said the Magician.
Ezekiel started to feel that way too. The young man grabbed a fistful of the grass into his palm in frustration, feeling utterly defeated.
"I used to wish for your demise, Sir Magician. For you to perish, so I could at least have a chance with Her Highness..." he released his grip and the green floated away, carrying his jealousy with the wind.
"But now I wish to see you both come out of the battle unscathed..."
You will have your chance, Duke Ezekiel Alpheus. A voice suddenly echoed in his head. The young man quickly propped himself up and looked around if he was still in the same meeting hall.
But he wasn't. His men were still hastily trying to find a carriage, and steed for him.
You can hear my voice then it is confirmed that we have a common goal.
"Then what is my goal?" Ezekiel asked lowly. He didn't care if someone thought he was crazy, but right now, he couldn't shake off the feeling of bloodthirst.
The death of the Black Tower Magician. And Her Highness will yours.
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