Chapter 300 - 298 : Back To Elvania

Chapter 300: Chapter 298 : Back To Elvania

The portal opened above a deserted avenue.

Blue light spilled across pale stone, illuminating the carved arches and silver-leafed trees lining the street. For a moment, the air trembled around the opening.

Then Athena stepped through.

Arthur followed, carrying Aiden and Damian.

The portal closed behind them with a soft, fading hum.

They had arrived in the capital of Elvania.

But the city Arthur remembered was gone.

The buildings remained. So did the elegant bridges spanning the narrow waterways and the flowering vines climbing the balconies.

But much of the city he remembered had been destroyed.

The streets were empty.

No merchants called from beneath the market awnings. No children chased one another around the fountains. No conversations drifted from the open terraces.

Shutters had been drawn over shop windows. A fruit stall stood abandoned beneath a sagging canopy, its unsold produce beginning to spoil.

Only guards moved through the capital.

They traveled in small groups, weapons drawn, their attention constantly shifting between the rooftops and the sky.

Arthur lowered Aiden and Damian onto the broad stone ledge beside a closed storefront.

Both were still unconscious.

Athena glanced at them before looking down the avenue.

"This is worse than I expected."

Arthur did not answer.

He had noticed the faces behind the windows.

An elderly elf peered through a narrow gap between two shutters. Across the street, a woman stood behind a curtain with a child pressed against her side.

The instant Arthur looked toward them, the curtain fell shut.

’They are afraid to leave their own homes.’

Hurried footsteps sounded nearby.

A patrol turned the corner and stopped at the sight of them.

The guards immediately raised their weapons.

"You there!"

An arrow settled onto a drawn bowstring.

"Keep your hands in the air!"

Two spearmen spread out, attempting to cover both sides of the street.

"Do not reach for a weapon."

Athena’s gaze moved over their formation.

Arthur stepped in front of her.

"Let me handle this."

The nearest guard tightened his grip.

Arthur looked directly at him.

"Do not tell me you have already forgotten me."

The guard froze.

His eyes moved from Arthur’s black hair to his crimson eyes.

Recognition struck.

"Sir Arthur?"

The bowman beside him lowered his weapon.

The first guard turned sharply toward the others.

"It is Sir Arthur. Lower your weapons immediately!"

Steel dipped.

The guards bowed, relief breaking through their exhausted expressions.

"Forgive us, sir. We did not realize—"

"Forget the pleasantries."

Arthur glanced toward the empty avenue.

"What is happening here?"

The guard straightened.

Up close, Arthur could see the signs of exhaustion: the dark shadows beneath his eyes, the dried blood near the edge of his sleeve, and the slight tremor in his hand.

"Sir, you should head to the palace immediately."

He looked toward the sky.

"It is not safe to remain out here. The enemy has been—"

A deep boom rolled across the capital.

The guard stopped.

A second followed.

Then a third.

Golden light appeared beyond the rooftops.

Arthur looked up.

Thousands of luminous arrows rose into the sky.

For an instant, they hung above the distant edge of the city like a second field of stars.

Then their trajectories bent.

Toward the capital.

Toward the streets.

Toward the homes.

"Incoming!"

The guard’s voice cracked across the avenue.

"Raise the barriers! Prepare for impact!"

The patrol moved without waiting for another order.

Mana gathered around their hands.

Pale shields unfolded above the street, overlapping where they could and leaving gaps where they could not.

Across the capital, other defensive spells flickered into existence.

Too few.

Far too few.

The first arrows struck the outer barriers.

Light burst against light.

One shield buckled.

Another shattered.

Arthur heard someone scream inside a nearby house.

The woman behind the curtain pulled her child away from the window. Farther down the street, an old man stumbled backward from his doorway and covered his head.

The guards braced themselves.

Several arrows had already passed through the gaps.

They were descending too quickly for another spell to be cast.

Athena stepped forward.

"Let me handle it."

She raised one hand.

The air changed.

Arthur felt space tighten around them.

Above the city, the falling arrows stopped.

All of them.

Thousands of points of golden light hung motionless in the sky, suspended at different heights.

One hovered just above a rooftop.

Another had stopped a few feet from the patrol’s failing barrier.

The nearest guard stared at it.

His spell faltered in his hands.

"What...?"

Athena closed her fingers.

A black opening formed high above the avenue.

It widened silently, its edges bending the light around it.

Then the suspended arrows began to move.

Not downward.

Inward.

Golden streaks curved toward the dark opening, drawn into it from every direction. Those above the distant districts vanished first, followed by the arrows hanging over the central streets.

Within seconds, the sky was clear.

The black opening contracted.

Then it disappeared.

Silence followed.

The guards stared upward.

At the windows, frightened faces appeared again.

No one seemed willing to trust what they had just witnessed.

Arthur looked toward Athena.

She lowered her hand.

"That should give us a moment."

Arthur’s gaze followed the direction from which the attack had come.

"A moment is enough."

His shadow spread across the stone.

The guards stepped back.

Darkness rose behind him, thickening into a vast shape.

A claw emerged first.

Then a wing.

Then a long, horned head.

Barbatos lifted himself from Arthur’s shadow, his enormous body unfolding above the avenue.

The nearby windows darkened beneath his wings.

Several guards instinctively reached for their weapons before remembering who stood before them.

Arthur placed one hand against the dragon’s neck and climbed onto his back.

"Athena. Watch them."

He glanced toward Aiden and Damian.

Then Barbatos crouched.

His wings swept downward.

Dust and loose leaves scattered across the street as the shadow dragon rose above the rooftops.

Arthur leaned forward.

"Let us find out who sent that."

───────────────

From above, the damage to the capital was impossible to miss.

Several outer streets had been reduced to rubble.

Smoke rose from a warehouse near the western wall. Temporary barricades blocked the roads leading out of the city, and clusters of guards moved between defensive positions.

Beyond the walls, the land bore the marks of repeated attacks.

Burned fields.

Broken watchtowers.

Roads scarred by spells.

Arthur followed the path the arrows had taken.

It led him toward a broad ridge beyond the capital’s outer defenses.

There, he found them.

A large force bearing the insignia of the Holy Empire had occupied the slope.

Soldiers stood in organized ranks around several casting formations. At their center, mages were already gathering mana for another attack.

Behind them knelt rows of nuns.

Their prayers carried faintly through the air.

Pale light flowed from their joined hands toward the soldiers, replenishing the mana spent on the previous volley.

Arthur watched the next formation begin to brighten.

His expression went still.

’They are not even giving the defenders time to recover.’

Space rippled beside him.

Athena appeared in the air near Barbatos’s shoulder.

Arthur glanced toward her.

"Aiden and Damian?"

"Protected. They will remain safe until we return."

Her eyes moved to the force below.

Then to the nuns at the rear.

"Kill the soldiers."

Arthur looked at her.

"Spare the nuns," she continued. "They may be useful. We can question them, and their healing abilities—"

Arthur turned away.

"Barbatos."

The dragon’s head lowered.

"Burn them all."

Athena’s expression changed.

"Arthur."

"Do not spare a single one."

Barbatos roared.

The sound swept across the ridge.

Below them, heads turned upward.

The nearest casting formation faltered.

Then panic spread.

"A dragon!"

"Defensive formations!"

"Raise the shields!"

Soldiers broke from their positions.

Some tried to maintain order. Others stumbled over the very lines they had been preparing to use against the capital.

Barriers rose.

Bolts of light shot upward.

Barbatos descended through them.

Several attacks struck his chest and wings, tearing brief holes in his shadowy form.

Darkness closed over them.

He kept coming.

A commander shouted for another volley.

No one completed it.

Barbatos opened his jaws.

Black flame gathered between his teeth.

Then it poured across the ridge.

The front ranks disappeared beneath it.

Defensive shields held for an instant before their surfaces cracked.

The fire rolled through the casting circles, swallowed the supply wagons, and reached the rows of praying nuns.

There was no distinction in its path.

Armor.

Robes.

Weapons.

Holy symbols.

All vanished behind the spreading darkness.

Screams rose from below.

Arthur did not look away.

He watched until the last casting formation collapsed and the light feeding it went out.

Only then did Barbatos lift his head.

The ridge burned beneath them.

Athena stared at it.

Then she turned toward Arthur.

"I told you to spare them."

Arthur met her gaze.

"Sorry."

There was no satisfaction in his expression.

But there was no uncertainty either.

"I am not that nice."

Athena’s jaw tightened.

"They were supporting an attack on a city full of civilians," he continued. "Those arrows were not aimed only at soldiers."

He looked toward the distant capital.

"They attacked first. This is war."

Then his eyes returned to hers.

"And I will kill anyone who helps them stand in my way."

For a moment, Athena said nothing.

Arthur gave Barbatos a quiet command.

The dragon turned toward the capital.

Then his wings carried them away.

Athena remained above the ridge.

The prayers had stopped.

So had the screams.

She looked once more at the burning ground.

Arthur was right about the attack.

Those formations would have kept firing into the city. The people replenishing the soldiers’ mana had made each new volley possible.

But understanding his reasoning did not make the sight easier to bear.

She hated war.

She hated how quickly it reduced every person to a threat, a resource, or a casualty.

And she hated that, while powerful people argued over who deserved to die, frightened families had to wait behind shuttered windows for the sky to fall.

Athena exhaled.

Then space folded around her.

She vanished.

───────────────

Inside the royal palace, the council chamber was crowded.

Maps covered the long table.

Small markers indicated defensive positions, supply routes, and towns whose messages had stopped arriving.

Too many markers had been turned over.

Erica sat at the head of the table.

Her back was straight.

Her hands rested together before her.

Only the faint shadows beneath her eyes betrayed how little she had slept.

Around her stood nobles, military officers, and royal advisers.

None looked patient.

"Your Majesty."

An elderly elven lord leaned forward.

"The enemy has occupied the old World Tree."

His voice carried through the chamber.

"We withdrew as ordered. They have what they came for."

He glanced around the table.

"And still they have not stopped attacking."

Another noble rose from his chair.

"Because the tree was never their only objective."

He pointed toward the map.

"Two cities nearest the capital have already fallen. Their forces are advancing along both roads."

Several people murmured in agreement.

The noble looked directly at Erica.

"Give the order to attack."

"If we continue doing nothing but defending, we will lose everything."

Erica held his gaze.

"We are not doing nothing."

Her voice was quiet.

It made the room settle enough for her next words to be heard.

"We are evacuating civilians, consolidating our remaining forces, and preserving the defenses around the capital."

"While the enemy takes our land."

"While we keep our people alive."

The noble’s mouth tightened.

Erica stood.

Everyone’s attention shifted toward her.

"You all know that our contact with the outside world has been cut off."

She looked from one face to another.

"Our messengers are not returning. Our communication networks are failing. We cannot depend on a request for aid reaching anyone in time."

Her hand settled beside the map.

"Our food reserves are running low. The refugees arriving here have increased the number of people we must feed, while the roads we need for supplies are being seized."

No one interrupted.

"The royal treasury is nearly empty."

The admission drew several grim looks.

Erica did not soften it.

"At a time like this, sending our remaining soldiers into a desperate, all-out attack would not be courage."

Her gaze sharpened.

"It would give the enemy exactly what they want."

She pointed toward the approaches to the capital.

"They would draw us out, destroy our forces in the open, and reach these gates with nothing left to stop them."

The standing noble looked away.

Erica continued.

"We need support before we can change the course of this battle."

"And where is that support?" Another asked.

"I have already requested it."

She paused.

"Arthur is coming."

The room did not relax.

A noble farther down the table slammed his palm against the polished wood.

The crack drew every eye.

"Your Majesty, we do not know when he will arrive."

Erica looked toward him.

"At this rate, we may be wiped out within days."

His frustration was no longer concealed.

"Are you truly telling us that the survival of our kingdom depends on a single person ?"

A heavy silence followed.

Erica drew a slow breath.

She could feel their anger.

Their fear.

The accusation beneath the question.

They wanted an order that sounded like action.

Something decisive enough to make them believe they still controlled what happened next.

She understood that desire.

She shared it.

But she would not spend the last of their soldiers merely to quiet the room.

"Yes," she said.

Several faces hardened.

"That is what I am telling you."

She met the noble’s gaze without looking away.

"I trust him."

Her voice remained steady.

"And I am asking you to trust him as well."

The noble sank slowly into his chair.

Not reassured.

Only exhausted.

Around the table, frustration lingered in clenched hands and lowered brows.

Erica could offer them no arrival time.

No fresh army waiting beyond the gates.

Only a promise made through a failing connection.

She remembered Arthur’s voice.

’Your people need you alive.’

Her fingers pressed against the table.

The council chamber doors burst open.

A guard hurried inside, breathing hard.

"Your Majesty!"

Every head turned.

He stopped just beyond the doorway.

"There is a dragon above the palace."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then a chair scraped backward.

"What?"

"A massive black dragon," the guard said. "It is hovering over the palace."

The color drained from several faces.

One adviser gripped the edge of the table.

Another reached for the weapon at his waist.

"Is it attacking?" an officer demanded.

The guard shook his head.

"Not yet. But—"

Footsteps sounded beyond the open doors.

Measured.

Unhurried.

The guard glanced back.

A young man entered the chamber.

Black hair.

Crimson eyes.

A familiar expression that suggested he had arrived somewhere inconvenient and was already deciding how to fix it.

Arthur.

Erica stared at him.

Then the tension in her face broke.

A smile appeared before she could stop it.