Boom— Her gut clenched; Medith didn't turn. The sky and the ground roared as one, the kind of quake that only a Quake Level Magic Breaker could make. Tonight, there were several at the high rung.

Gill's side had a commander at Tsunami mid-tier—waves in human form. And this was only the border's muscle.

They'd thrown everything and still couldn't break through.

This was the Southern Kingdom. After tasting it head-on, Medith finally knew: Segireneto, Nessos—none even a tenth as heavy. She had no ground to boast.

"Then let me take you today—maybe that'll be worth bragging about." Medith turned dots into a canvas. Her body blurred into a storm of afterimages. She slammed the iron wall again and again.

"Magic Breaker Corps!" Kains bellowed. From a battle depot, hundreds of Magic Breakers sprinted, spearing straight at Sais and her team.

Their hearts lurched. To dodge the Corps, Medith's line forced a weave; the formation frayed, threads loosening toward collapse.

They saw the tear and dove in shamelessly, their strikes braided tight, driving deeper into the enemy line.

With a sudden spark, Medith slipped into the Corps’ heart—like she'd seen it coming. Chaos folded; lines stitched together into a tight wall.

Medith met their stunned gazes; her features blossomed, a calm smile opening like dawn. "Victory Horn: Silence Is Gold."

Dum— Light flared from Medith’s eyes, sweeping across half the field. Magic Breakers blanked out; their Lawbreaking Ability froze mid-brew. Bodies locked, minds stunned.

At the same time, Sais’s team got clipped; their Wind Magic sealed for a heartbeat. They'd planned for it—blades and bows out, they surged. The overdeep Corps lost its only crutch; with the sudden shift, it was almost instantly swallowed.

"What is that? How can Lawbreaking be this terrifying?!" In the rear, Kains saw it clean. He sent scouts riding with the news: this battle’s lost. The Southern Kingdom’s proud Lawbreaking Ability is hard-countered by Medith.

They came ready; our side's blind by miles. It's a field of spears and swords in medieval dusk. Then a tank rolls up and shells your gate—what do you fight it with?

And it wasn’t a tank—it was a nuke. One transformation, thousands dead; the blast afterward could flip the whole field, the front line shredded to dust.

"Fall back! Fall back! Reform the line!" Kains shredded his throat, driving the retreat to keep Medith from acting again.

"Huh?" Medith was about to Magic Break, but they peeled back clean—dozens of meters in a breath. At that range, with what strength she had left, a second Magic Break would only tip the line, not tear it.

Her jaw tightened. "Tricky one." If a “small” border commander hits this hard, what monsters are waiting in the other cities?

Still, Medith’s resolve burned cold. This war isn’t a declaration; it’s a wake. No matter the cost, Andrew must die.

...

[Side Battlefield]

Aooo— The Iron Cavalry Legion’s captain threw his head back and howled. Savage black qi whipped up gale and gravel, flipping Iron Cavalry like leaves. Their armor couldn’t stop the stone storm; men were battered to the brink.

Boom— A black sphere, twenty meters across, swelled and rolled. It swept in dozens of Kuso Guild members who hadn’t pulled back and shock-killed them on the spot.

Gill didn’t flinch. He stayed inside and went head-to-head, Magic Breaker against Magic Breaker. The ground split; earthfire rose. A hundred meters around went bare, leaving only their crackling Magic Breaker hiss.

Hiss-hiss-hiss— After a few seconds, both were blasted back dozens of meters. Gill raised a greatsword of violet fire in his right hand. The captain shed his skin into the Black Rider, death-qi leaking off him. His form stayed the same, but his speed exploded; his lance hit tenfold harder.

Gill braced with one arm across and didn’t even look his way. He flashed into the crowd—one cut at the packed Bloodhand Gang. The heat of the greatsword drew a blazing line; a dozen men turned to charcoal. Their armor was paper-paste, useless as breath.