Chapter 87: Trap Activated
The hidden Fifth Circle mage behind the ruined shrine lifted his staff first.
A red circle opened under his feet. It was not large, but it was sharp and clean. The fire mana around him did not explode wildly like Dorian’s mana, and it did not roll like Garran’s heavy pressure. It moved in a thin, careful pattern. This mage was not the kind of man who wasted strength to look powerful. He looked like someone who killed by choosing the exact place where flesh was weakest.
Lucard noticed that immediately.
The broad Rank Four knight stepped out from the broken tomb below at the same time. His aura rolled over his armor in a thick layer. It did not glow like a mage spell. It pressed against the air like a physical wall. The long sword on his shoulder looked almost as tall as Jake, and the edge carried a faint red line. He was not only a knight. He was a knight prepared to fight beside fire mages. That meant his armor and aura were likely trained to resist heat.
Garran had hidden two different blades.
One to crush the Marovain line from below.
One to kill Lucard from above.
Lucard smiled faintly.
The old man was dirty, but not stupid.
Celia moved before the Rank Four knight could reach Robi.
Her silver mana flared around her feet, and she crossed the platform like a flash of moonlight on stone. The knight swung his sword down toward Robi’s side, but Celia’s thin sword left its sheath and struck the heavy blade before it landed.
Clang.
The sound rang across Black Barrow Hill.
The force pushed Celia back half a step, but her barrier magic caught the pressure under her feet and spread it into the stone. The knight’s eyes narrowed with surprise. He had expected a merchant noble lady who hid behind guards and contracts. Instead, Celia stood in front of him with a straight back, her sword glowing with silver lines, and her eyes cold enough to cut pride.
"You are in my way," the knight said.
Celia lifted her sword. "Then walk around me after you fall."
The knight grinned and attacked again.
His sword came from the right in a wide, heavy arc. Celia did not block directly this time. She stepped back, raised two fingers, and formed three small silver shields in the air. The first shield tilted the sword upward. The second shield struck the side of the blade. The third shield exploded into a pushing force against the knight’s chest. The knight slid back, but he did not fall. His aura thickened around his boots and held him to the platform.
He laughed.
"Good. I was afraid House Marovain only raised accountants."
Celia’s face did not change. "And I was afraid House Velkhur only raised loud dogs. It seems some of you can hold a sword too."
The knight’s smile became sharper.
They clashed again.
Below them, Marovain guards and Velkhur guards crashed into each other. The sound of metal filled the hill. Marovain guards fought in pairs, shield and spear, moving carefully to protect their mages and the hidden formation line. Velkhur guards fought harder and louder, using fire charms on their blades and trying to break through with force. Sparks flew over the grave stones. One Marovain guard blocked a burning sword with his shield, then another stabbed the Velkhur guard’s thigh. A Velkhur soldier kicked a Marovain spearman into an old tomb marker and raised his blade to finish him, but a silver barrier from Celia’s side pushed the blade away at the last moment.
Ravencroft and his men did not join fully.
Baron Ravencroft stood behind the lower stone line with Adrian and Tina. His guards formed a tight circle around them. He watched everything with a pale face and greedy eyes. He wanted Garran to win, but he did not want to be close enough to pay the price if Garran lost. That was the kind of courage barons often had when standing behind duke families. They could shout from safety, bow when necessary, and later claim they had always supported the winning side.
Lucard kept all of this in his mind while facing the Fifth Circle mage above the shrine.
The mage pointed his staff at him.
"Little rat," the mage said. "Lord Garran ordered you alive if possible, but he did not say you need all your limbs."
Lucard looked at the man’s hand, the staff angle, the distance between them, the broken stones behind him, and the platform below. He did not answer. Talking wasted breath unless it moved the enemy’s mind. This mage looked calm. Insults would not make him careless so quickly.
So Lucard moved first.
He stepped left, and the mage’s eyes followed.
"Scarlet Needle Rain."
Dozens of small fire needles shot from the red circle near the mage’s staff. They did not fly in a straight line. They spread in a fan shape and curved toward Lucard’s chest, throat, arms, and legs. The attack was made to stop movement, not kill at once. The mage wanted to pin him down for Garran later.
Lucard dropped low and threw blood from his fingertips.
The blood split into thin threads and struck some of the fire needles. The needles hissed and burst into sparks, but many passed through. Lucard rolled behind a broken pillar. Fire needles struck the stone and sank into it, leaving glowing holes. One needle cut across his left shoulder. Another grazed his cheek.
Pain came.
Lucard ignored it.
His new Crimson Vessel reacted much faster than before. Blood closed the small cuts at once. The pain remained, but the bleeding stopped almost instantly. That one change was useful. Before reaching the Second Blood Circle, a small wound was still a small loss. Now a small wound became a tool if he wanted it to be.
The mage saw the cuts close and frowned.
Lucard smiled.
The mage understood then that the boy would be difficult to kill.