Almost the instant Gill shouted, Sais struck first, a hawk diving straight at him.

She burned mana like dry oil catching fire. Her speed snapped like lightning; before Gill could react, she was in his face.

Two Dark Blades gleamed green like willow leaves under moonlight, and Gill’s heart stayed still as a stone in a pond.

Wmmm—yeee— A blade-hum pierced sharp as a cicada’s cry. Sais flipped midair, her spinning form tracing a crescent through the sky.

Out of the corner of her eye, a line of sword aura drilled through the south wall, carving a crack like a riverbed across stone.

Thunk! She landed, and a shard of cold light stabbed in. She lifted a flower-like leg and rolled back, red hair flaring like wildfire.

Her arms snapped forward, spring steel against steel, batting the slash aside like a gust turning a banner.

She steadied, then drew an X of black light, an ink-cross slashed upon the air.

Jade dropped low, left hand on the ground. His right hand lifted the katana, chopping through her black light like an axe splitting wet wood.

Hm? Sais narrowed her phoenix eyes, a storm gathering behind the lashes.

That katana carried a strong anti-magic film, a bitter frost on steel—but not at Impado’s grade.

At the same time, the crowd surged like a tsunami, boots and rage crashing in waves.

Crimson Sun members rushed to meet them, short blades sparking like flint in tight skirmishes.

Medith’s brief training had honed them. Not elites, but sharper than the Kuso Guild, like tempered steel against cast iron.

By Sais’s order, they held in that first clash, flowing footwork and guarded blades, a river bending the flood.

Melia switched to a longsword, weaving through the field like a swallow. She snipped tendons or hammered with the flat, rain without thunder.

She tried to show mercy, to say with steel that they weren’t here to butcher, a lantern raised in storm-dark.

But rage had blinded them like sand in the eyes. Their love for Herbert ran deep as roots, plain as old scars.

Aaaah— A Kuso fighter leaped, and in the maelstrom of the hall, his cut fell like a guillotine.

A Crimson Sun member failed to turn, and blood opened like a red flower, petals spattering the tiles.

His death rang like a bell, a signal flare. It set the crowd’s anger ablaze like dry grass.

Blows turned razor cold. No more blocking with blade backs—just killing, wolves loosed from the leash.

Lina’s bright eyes swept like a lighthouse beam. She read the hall in a breath: “Outnumbered! Form up!”

She pulled her longsword and gathered them with strokes like shepherd’s crook. Sais slipped free and arrowed toward Lina.

The women ringed her tight, a shield-wall around their commander, moons guarding a bright star.

“Rita and Sister Mei, use the terrain and harry. Don’t hold back—they won’t spare us.

Captain, pin their high-tier fighters, chains on the tiger.

The rest hold the hall with me. Nobody goes out—guard the gate like a dam.

After the first push, anyone who can be a Magic Breaker, do it. Watch for friendly lines like threads in a loom.

That’s all!” Lina’s gaze was steel and river calm, Medith’s composure carried on a clear voice.

Her confidence and insight settled churning hearts, a warm wind across cold water.

“But… what do we do next?” Sais breathed in wind-speech, feeling the ache before the answer.

Peggy’s small eyes lifted, bright with hope like dawn stars.

Lina had expected this, seeing through the fog. “Trust her. Hold the line. Guard our faith. Nothing else.”

The women took it in, exchanged firm looks, patted Peggy’s head like blessing, and set their shielded stance.

They faced the oncoming reaper host like cliffs against waves, resolve carved in basalt.

Gus watched and felt respect rise like a tide for Sais and her sisters. “Your faith humbles me.

In such stark resolve, you don’t break—you spend everything, choose death over bending, iron in the spine…

Truth is, I don’t believe it was you… but the iron proof stands, and my hands are bound.

A pity… if not for this twist of fate, we might’ve been the best of friends.

Farewell, my most respected enemies and friends.” His order fell, and the death-fight began like thunder.

Sais stepped out first, a gatepost in the flood, taking the line against Jade and Eddie. Haywood’s golden eyes, like brass bells, held tangled emotion.

He hesitated, then withdrew, standing under the doorway like a statue, shadow torn from the fray.

Gill said nothing. He vaulted ahead of Jade and Eddie, Bloodsword crimson in hand, face stern as a stone mask. “She’s mine. I’ll avenge Herbert’s severed finger myself.”

Eddie nodded, then blurred toward Lina, a hawk stooping from high sky.

Jade snorted, withdrew from the field, a blade sheathed, rain held back.

Ding!

Clang— Steel sang and answered across the hall, a hive of impacts. Chaos reigned, but blood hadn’t yet pooled.

Gill kept his silence. His sword flashed at Sais like a comet. Sais slid sideways, her movement a reed in wind.

Wumm— The blade hummed, trailing a blood-red light, ripping the air. The floor split in a bottomless gouge.

That cut carried a thousand-weight force, a landslide in a single stroke. Gill’s face stayed blank, as if brushing dust.

Cold sweat drew a silver thread down Sais’s cheek. His power towered over all, a mountain shadow.

His aura was fiercer than Erig’s Magic Breaker, a storm beyond storms.

No ordinary man could carry this. The blood-cloth and Bloodsword drank and fed, wolves at his side.

Sais didn’t flinch. She sprang in and unleashed a fierce flurry, rain turning to hail…

The hall wasn’t narrow, but five hundred bodies packed it tight, a forest of spears. High-tier fighters were cramped, wings clipped.

The lower-tier lines held under Lina’s command. With Melia and Rita cutting and harrying, victory stayed clouded, no sun breaking yet.

“Peggy, stay off the field for now. Stick to my side, shadow to lamp!”

“Sister Mei, cycle bow and blade, trim their backline. Put fear in their rear ranks, winter in their bones!”

“Rita, loose hard and fast. Don’t hoard mana—kill as many frontliners as the field will take!”

Lina stood on the wide stairs, a general on a high ridge, directing their desperate stand.

That narrow stair-mouth became their only crevice, a canyon gate against a flood.

Eddie watched Melia and Rita tearing through his guildmates like scythes in wheat. He knew Lina was the keystone, the arch’s heart.

He lifted his gaze to the vaulted ceiling and roared, thunder ripping clouds: “Regido—”