The path to the teaching building was swarming with people fleeing in every direction. Setis led the way, staff in hand, its tip glowing with a faint red aura of caution. Her brother Reinhardt protected their mother close behind her, his mana barrier forming a pale blue protective zone that enveloped the three of them.
“This way! To the teaching building!”
Setis shouted to a group of panicked tourists. It was a family—a middle-aged couple with two children and a white-haired old woman, likely commoners from the Outer City based on their attire. They were crouching under a plane tree, trembling, and looked up blankly when they heard her call.
“Follow us!” Setis rushed over in a few strides and waved her staff. A fire wall rose behind them, cutting off the line of sight of several Blood Moon Cultists charging their way. “Move!”
The family finally reacted, picking up the children and stumbling after them. Not far along, Reinhardt spotted a young noble with a sprained ankle, being supported by a companion as they tried to run toward the academy gates.
“Don’t go that way! The gates are blocked!” Reinhardt grabbed the man’s arm. “The teaching building has a protective barrier. Follow us.”
They gathered several more groups along the way—scattered students, merchants from out of town, and a few well-dressed but pale-faced nobles. Setis stayed on the outer edge, her staff constantly waving to intercept stray magical bolts fired from the shadows. Her movements were crisp and efficient; every 【Fireball】 landed precisely in front of the Blood Moon Cultists, not lethally, but enough to halt their advance.
By the time they reached the teaching building, over twenty people were following behind them.
The situation inside the building was hardly better than outside. The first-floor corridor was packed with people, mostly tourists seeking refuge and lower-year students. Cries and shouts mingled together; a few second-year students in uniform were trying to calm them, but to little effect. People were constantly running up and down the stairs to the second floor, their faces etched with panic and fear.
Setis handed the people she had brought back over to the students maintaining order on the first floor, then quickly headed to the second. At the end of the corridor, a crowd had gathered outside the classroom that served as the refreshment area. Mila was standing at the door, speaking loudly. When she saw Setis return, her expression visibly relaxed.
“How is it?”
“Not good,” Mila whispered. “Two more groups just ran in. There are about forty people packed in the classroom now, mostly tourists. Our people are maintaining order, but—” She glanced at the pale-faced students in the corridor. “Everyone is afraid. Someone said they saw Blood Moon Cultists gathering in the North District, and students from other years are saying the City Guard won't be able to get in before tomorrow afternoon.”
Setis didn't respond. She pushed open the classroom door and walked in. The room was densely packed with people. Thor was crouching in a corner, handing a cookie to a shivering little girl—cream puffs and butter cookies had become the best tools for comfort in such a time. The original desks and chairs had been pushed to the walls to act as temporary partitions, and the windows were tightly covered with thick curtains to prevent any light from being seen from outside.
In the corner, Duchess Sebas was sitting with several other mothers who also had children, speaking in low tones. Seeing her daughter enter, she stood up and walked over.
“As long as you're safe...” She looked Setis up and down, and only after confirming her daughter had no injuries did her expression relax slightly.
“Mother, stay here,” Setis said. “Mila will look after you.”
The Duchess’s smile faltered.
“And you?”
“I’m going out.”
“No.” The Duchess’s tone changed instantly. She was no longer the woman who had teased her daughter for blushing; she was the matriarch of a ducal house. “Setis, you are only a second-year student. This isn't something you should be doing. We’ve brought back everyone we could. Now we stay here and wait for the City Guard or the palace rescue—”
“They aren't coming.”
Setis interrupted her.
“At least, not quickly. For the Blood Moon Cult to launch an attack during the anniversary celebration, they must have made thorough preparations. Those explosions in the Outer City were likely bait to lure away Senior Napa and the Imperial Guards. If they have the means to stall the Imperial Guards, they certainly have the means to block the City Guard.”
She stood in the center of the classroom, and the surrounding noise gradually fell silent. Everyone’s gaze fixed on her—the girl in the school uniform with the high blonde ponytail.
“I am a daughter of the House of Sebas,” her voice was not loud, but every word was clear.
“The name of nobility was never meant for boasting; it is a burden of responsibility to protect the kingdom and its people. If even we are afraid to stand up, what will happen to the people out there? They will be terrified, they will flee, and they might even... die. Every one of them is a subject of this kingdom. Our mana and combat skills weren't trained just for performances at celebrations. They never were.”
She raised her staff, and the glow at its tip changed from a pale red to a bright orange-gold.
“I will not ask any of you to come with me. This is my own decision; it is not an order. If anyone is willing to join me, I would be grateful. If anyone wishes to stay, I completely understand—after all, we are just students, and many of you have never experienced real combat... There is no shame in staying here.”
Silence filled the classroom. The first to stand was Reinhardt. He took off his coat, folded it, and placed it in his mother’s hands before silently walking to his sister’s side.
“I am a Rank 3 warrior, after all. I can’t let you play the hero alone,” he said, spreading his hands toward his sister. “Father would scold me to death if he found out.”
Duchess Sebas looked at her two children. Her lips moved, but in the end, she said nothing. She unfurled her fan to cover half her face, leaving only her slightly reddened eyes visible, and said in an extremely calm tone, “Take care of your brother. Don’t let him get hurt.”
The corner of Setis’s mouth twitched, carrying a rare trace of a smile.
The next few to stand up were all students from the Second-Year Magic Department Special Class—a boy named Kyle, a Rank 2 warrior who was usually quiet but consistently at the top of the class; a girl named Phil Wesley, a Rank 2 fire mage and the only rival Setis had ever faced in fire magic class; and a boy named Olson, a Rank 2 assassin who was so fast even third-year seniors couldn't catch him. With these three plus Setis and Reinhardt, there were five in total. Mila hesitated several times but was ultimately pushed back by Setis—the classroom needed someone who could make decisions.
The rest chose to stay. Setis said nothing more, simply nodding to them before pushing the door open and leaving.
The air in the corridor was even more stifling than before. The five of them pushed through the crowd, moving against the flow of refugees toward the exit of the teaching building. Along the way, they passed several students in temporary shelters who watched the small team with a mix of awe and concern. Setis did not look back, her hand gripping her staff tightly, her golden ponytail swaying slightly with her stride.
The chaos was intensifying. The sounds of explosions had grown distant, replaced by a more continuous din—the crackle of magic, the muffled thuds of collapsing buildings, and the screams and curses of people. Pillars of black smoke rose from at least four directions, and the acrid scent of sulfur permeated the air.
As they rounded the plaza, they saw a group engaged in a fierce battle in the distance—about seven or eight Blood Moon Cultists were besieging a small academy squad. Among the attackers was a man who looked like a captain, wearing dark red robes; his staff was wreathed in several wind blades that let out sharp whistles with every swing. The besieged academy side had been pushed to a corner at the edge of the plaza, barely holding on behind a collapsed stone monument.
Leading them was a female teacher in short black robes, appearing to be in her early thirties, holding a silver-white metal staff. She was surrounded by several rotating mana shields, simultaneously blocking attacks from three directions while firing ice spikes from the tip of her staff in retaliation.
Beside her was another male teacher, looking to be in his forties. His gray warlock robes were torn in several places, and there was a bleeding wound on his left arm. The tip of his staff constantly emitted a pale green light as he cast buffing spells on the surrounding students—【Mana Shield】 and 【Rapid Recovery】. The six students were all wearing senior uniforms, desperately resisting with various basic spells and martial techniques, but they were clearly on the verge of collapse.
“The shield on the left is about to break!” a boy shouted.
“I can’t replenish it! I’m out of mana!” another girl cried out, her voice bordering on tears.
The Blood Moon Cult captain snorted, raising his staff high. Three wind blades condensed simultaneously at the tip, their rotation causing the air to let out a piercing screech.
At that moment, Setis charged.
She didn't shout a battle cry or give any warning; she simply crashed into the flank of the Blood Moon Cultists like a cannonball. She swung her staff like a short club, slamming it heavily into the head of the outermost cultist, who grunted and was sent flying. Immediately after, she spun her staff and released a 【Flame Impact】 point-blank into the chest of another cultist—at this range, there was no possibility of dodging. The man screamed as he fell, his robes scorched with a blackened hole.
“Setis Anna, Second-Year Special Class.”
She announced her name amidst the rising flames.
“You guys take the front line! Mages to the back, and close-combatants protect the casters—now!”
The classmates following her didn't hesitate for a second. Kyle drew the short sword from his back and rushed to the front without a word, flanking the two mages alongside Reinhardt. Olson’s figure flickered and vanished into the shadows, reappearing a second later behind a cultist trying to flank them—【Shadow Thrust】. The dagger pierced the man’s thigh with precision, and he fell to his knees screaming. Phil raised her staff, alternating between 【Flame Impact】 and 【Fireball】. Though her power wasn't as staggering as Setis’s, she was fast and her transitions were smooth, momentarily pinning down two cultists in front of her.
The female teacher was stunned for a moment, then a look of relief appeared on her face. She dropped one of the shields blocking the wind blades, channeling all the saved mana into the tip of her staff.
“【Ice Spikes - Modified】—Freeze them!”
Several thick ice spikes erupted from the ground, fanning out from her as the center. The control area of this strike was nearly double that of a normal 【Ice Spikes】. Three Blood Moon Cultists had their legs frozen by the ice, their movements instantly becoming sluggish.
“Now’s our chance!”
Setis did not miss this opening. She took a deep breath, the mana circuits on her staff lighting up rapidly as a massive fireball condensed at the tip—not the platinum-white 【Flame Star Fall】, but her specialty: multi-casting.
“【Triple Fireball】!”
Three fireballs formed simultaneously, tracing three different arcs through the air as they slammed into the three frozen cultists. The first hit the cultist on the left flank, blowing him away along with the ice; the second struck the captain in the center, causing his wind blade shield to vibrate violently; the third landed precisely at the feet of the cultist on the right, the shockwave flipping him over.
“Quick, don't give them a chance to breathe!”
The warlock teacher seized the opportunity to release the last of his mana—【Mass Haste】. A circle of pale green light spread from beneath his feet, covering the entire temporary squad. Everyone’s movements instantly became nimbler; both casting speed and melee movement speed increased by a level. Kyle swung his sword and cut down a cultist, while Reinhardt’s 【Rock Fist】 slammed another person trying to get up back into the ground. Olson emerged from the shadows again, his dagger pressed against the neck of the last cultist still standing.
“Don’t move.”
The opponent wisely dropped his staff and was promptly knocked unconscious with a hand-chop.
From the moment Setis joined the fray until it ended, less than three minutes had passed.
The female teacher leaned against the collapsed stone monument, panting. She looked at Setis and nodded with a hint of admiration.
“So you’re the ‘Tyrant’?”
“...Now isn't the time for that, Teacher.” Setis hoisted her staff back onto her shoulder. “How many more Blood Moon Cultists are nearby?”
“At least several hundred.” The female teacher wiped the dust from her face, her expression darkening. “The East District martial arts arena, the South District library, the West District practical training building, and the main gate plaza. Teachers and academy guards are organizing resistance everywhere, but we’re too shorthanded. Most of the teachers were previously reassigned to the palace’s special task force. The remaining teachers and guards who can fight only add up to about thirty people, and they have to be split up. The senior students can make up the numbers, but most of their combat experience is limited to the arena. When they face the suicidal tactics of the Blood Moon Cultists, they’re lucky if they can use half their strength.”
The warlock teacher took over, his left arm wound having been briefly bandaged with emergency magic by a student, though it was still bleeding. “The Blood Moon Cult sent at least several hundred people this time, including several Rank 5 captains. We’re currently holding on through the terrain and the individual strength of the teachers, but if this war of attrition continues, our disadvantage will only grow.”
Setis fell silent for a moment, then nodded.
“Then let’s take out as many as we can while we still have the strength.”
She turned and tilted her chin toward her companions.
“Let’s go.”
The five of them set off once more. Behind them, the female teacher watched Setis’s back, spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and then picked up her staff to follow.
“What are you staring at? Follow them!”
Her students looked at each other, but no one backed down. Though the battle just now was brief, it was like a shot of adrenaline—if even the lower-year students were charging in, there was no way they, the seniors, could hide behind them.
Similar scenes were repeating elsewhere in the academy.
Outside the martial arts arena, two teachers from the Martial Arts Division led over a dozen fourth and fifth-year warrior department students, defending using the stone pillars and broken walls of the arena’s perimeter. They had no mages among them, but they held the line through the knights' shield wall and the warriors' rotating charges, blocking wave after wave of Blood Moon Cultists from the arena entrance. A female knight in heavy armor stood in the front row; her shield was battered and dented, but the line beneath her feet remained unmoved.
The library was a different story. As the academy’s repository of information, it housed a vast collection of precious magic tomes and documents that could not be allowed to suffer any damage. Several teachers from the Magic Division had laid down layers of protective barriers here, enveloping the old building in a semi-transparent screen of light. The Blood Moon Cultists’ attacks rippled across the barrier, but they could not break through. Maintaining the barrier required a massive amount of mana; several lower-year students took turns channeling mana to the teachers, their faces pale, yet not one of them stopped.
The most difficult area was the main gate plaza, where the chaos had first erupted and where the number of Blood Moon Cultists was highest. A middle-aged man in an academy guard captain’s uniform led seven or eight guards, six teachers, and about twenty senior students, surrounded on three sides by nearly a hundred cultists. They had retreated to the base of the massive Heroic Memorial in the center of the plaza, making a final stand with their backs to the monument. The guard captain had at least three burn wounds, but he still stood at the very front, his longsword wreathed in a layer of earthy yellow mana, every swing carrying a heavy, wind-breaking sound.
“Hold on a little longer!” he roared at the exhausted young people beside him. “The palace has received word! They must be on their way!”
No one knew if he was telling the truth, but no one retreated.
The entire academy was like a giant beast besieged by a pack of wolves, covered in wounds yet refusing to fall. Every line of defense was grit and determination, everyone waiting for a turning point—to persevere was to win.
Rate on N.U.
