Halochassis

A few hours before the battle between Shin and Qinglong…

The afternoon sun shone through the windows of Lireina’s room in the adventurer’s guild, casting golden patches of light across her desk. The warm rays brushed against her cheeks, while a gentle breeze slipped through the narrow gap in the window and stirred the loose papers scattered across the wooden surface. The faint scratching of her quill against parchment was the only sound accompanying her work, occasionally interrupted by the distant chatter of adventurers in the guild’s lobby. It was a surprisingly peaceful afternoon, the kind of quiet moment Lireina rarely experienced in her line of work. She dipped her quill into the ink bottle and continued writing, carefully finishing the last few lines of her report. However, just as she was about to resume her work, the fluttering of wings caught her attention. A black raven landed on her windowsill, its claws scraping against the wood as it tilted its head toward her. Lireina paused and lowered her quill, watching the bird with mild curiosity.

“Oh, a message,” Lireina muttered when she noticed the rolled-up letter fastened to the raven’s leg. She put down her quill, rose from her chair, and approached the window. The raven remained still as she gently untied the thin cord holding the letter in place. Its glossy black feathers shimmered under the afternoon sunlight, and its sharp eyes followed her movements with an almost unsettling intensity. Once she had removed the letter, the bird spread its wings and flew away, disappearing beyond the rooftops. Lireina watched it for a moment before turning her attention to the message. She unrolled the parchment, expecting an ordinary request from a fellow adventurer or perhaps an update concerning one of her assignments. Instead, the moment her eyes landed on the words written across the page, her body went rigid. The warmth of the afternoon suddenly seemed to disappear, replaced by a cold sensation that crept down her spine.

We have your best friend. Come to the Royal Palace alone, and she might get to see another day.

Lireina stared at the message, reading it again and again as though the words might somehow change if she looked at them long enough. Her fingers tightened around the parchment until its edges crumpled beneath her grip. For several seconds, she could do nothing but stand beside her desk, unable to tear her eyes away from the cruel threat. Then, a name escaped her lips, barely louder than a whisper.

“Croft.”

The moment she said it, Lireina sprang into action. She crushed the letter in her fist, turned toward the door, and hurried out of her room without bothering to tidy her desk or secure the documents she had been working on. Her boots struck the wooden floor with hurried, uneven steps as she rushed toward the staircase. Her mind was already racing, each passing second giving birth to another terrifying possibility. What had happened to Croft? When had someone managed to abduct her? Had she been taken by surprise while walking through the city, or had the kidnappers ambushed her somewhere isolated? More importantly, was Croft still alive? 

Lireina tried to steady her breathing, but her heart hammered against her chest so violently that she could almost hear its frantic rhythm in her ears. She had faced countless dangers as an adventurer, yet the thought of her best friend being held captive filled her with a dread unlike anything she had experienced before. She could fight monsters and face powerful enemies without hesitation, but the uncertainty surrounding Croft’s fate made her feel as though the ground beneath her feet was slowly crumbling away.

As Lireina descended the stairs, she passed several adventurers who were enjoying their afternoon drinks and conversations. The familiar smell of roasted meat, freshly baked bread, and spilled ale drifted through the lobby, mixing with the dusty scent of old wooden furniture. Someone laughed loudly near the counter, while another adventurer complained about the low rewards offered for a recent monster-hunting quest. 

Under ordinary circumstances, Lireina might have stopped to exchange greetings or listen to their conversations, but today, none of those familiar sights and sounds registered in her mind. She hurried toward the entrance, her expression so tense that even the adventurers closest to the staircase instinctively moved aside. Before she could reach the door, however, the guild receptionist called out to her.

“Oh, Lena! Are you going on a date again with your boyfriend? You seem to be in a hurry. Excited much?” Ariel asked cheerfully from behind the counter. She leaned forward with a playful smile, apparently unaware of the turmoil raging inside Lireina’s mind. The receptionist had grown accustomed to seeing the young adventurer come and go, and she seemed to assume that Lireina’s hurried movements were connected to another one of her usual adventures—or perhaps her romantic encounter. Lireina stopped for only a moment and forced the corners of her mouth upward. The smile felt stiff and unnatural, but she hoped it would be enough to keep Ariel from asking any more questions.

“No,” Lireina answered, offering no further explanation. She quickly made her way toward the equipment area, where she collected her battle gear and checked her weapons. The familiar weight of her pistols settled against her hands as she examined their condition, ensuring that they were ready for immediate use. She fastened her equipment securely, adjusted her short white cape, and pulled on her boots, tightening the straps until they fitted snugly around her ankles. Each movement was quick and practiced, the result of years spent preparing for dangerous encounters. Yet even as she checked her weapons, her thoughts remained fixed on Croft. She could not afford to waste time wondering who had sent the letter or why they had chosen her friend as a target. Those questions would have to wait until she reached the palace. Without another word to Ariel or the other adventurers, Lireina pushed open the guild’s entrance and stepped into the afternoon sunlight. The door swung shut behind her with a heavy thud, leaving the cheerful noise of the lobby muffled in its wake.

Outside, the streets of the city stretched beneath the golden afternoon sky. Merchants called out to passing customers, horse-drawn carts rattled along the cobblestone roads, and the occasional carriage rolled past the shops lining the avenue. The air carried the mixed scents of fresh bread, horse sweat, and dust stirred up by passing traffic. People moved about their daily routines, seemingly unaware that anything was wrong. Lireina paid none of them any attention. She stepped into an open stretch of road, bent her knees slightly, and gathered wind mana around her legs. A faint, silvery shimmer formed around her boots as the magical energy compressed against her skin, sending a cool tingling sensation through her feet and calves. The air around her began to swirl, lifting strands of her hair and fluttering the edges of her white cape. She took one sharp breath, fixed her gaze on the distant royal district, and released the magic.

The moment Lireina pushed off the ground, the cobblestones beneath her boots cracked from the sudden force. A thunderous sonic boom erupted behind her, startling nearby pedestrians and sending loose dust swirling into the air. She shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, her body propelled by the wind magic enveloping her legs. Buildings, streetlamps, and startled faces blurred into streaks at the edges of her vision as she raced through the city at a breakneck speed. Every time her boots struck the ground, another explosive crack echoed through the streets, followed by a violent gust that scattered fallen leaves and sent shopkeepers scrambling to secure their wares. The wind roared past her ears, tearing at her cape and forcing tears to gather at the corners of her eyes. She barely noticed the discomfort. Her entire concentration was devoted to maintaining her speed while keeping her body under control. The royal district, which would normally have required a lengthy journey on foot or by carriage, rapidly grew closer. Within minutes, the rooftops of the surrounding buildings gave way to the towering walls and spires of the royal palace.

Lireina finally slowed down as she approached the enormous fortress, allowing the wind magic around her legs to dissipate. The sudden silence after the thunderous booms left her ears ringing faintly, while the muscles in her legs tingled from the strain of traveling at such an extraordinary speed. She planted both boots firmly on the ground and lifted her head toward the imposing structure before her. The Royal Palace of Empyrea stood as the largest castle in the entire kingdom, a sprawling stronghold whose sheer size dwarfed the buildings surrounding it. Massive stone walls stretched across the landscape, their surfaces weathered by years of wind and rain, while countless towers rose above them like the spears of a gigantic army. 

Banners bearing the royal insignia fluttered from the highest ramparts, their fabric snapping in the breeze. From behind the walls came the occasional metallic clang of weapons and the rhythmic marching of soldiers conducting their patrols. The palace was not merely a residence for the royal family; it was a fortress designed to withstand sieges, invasions, and the ambitions of those who might threaten the crown. A broad river encircled the entire complex, its surface glimmering beneath the afternoon sun. The rushing water formed a natural barrier around the fortress, leaving only one practical route into the palace grounds: an enormous fortified gate that also served as a drawbridge over the river.

Lireina approached the gate, her boots striking the stone road with measured steps as she tried to suppress the anxiety tightening her chest. Two Royal Guards stood watch before the entrance, both clad in polished armor that reflected the sunlight. Their spears were held upright beside them, and their helmets concealed most of their faces, leaving only their watchful eyes visible through narrow openings. As Lireina drew closer, the guards crossed their weapons to block her path. The sharp clatter of metal rang out between them, forcing her to stop several paces away.

“Who are you? State your purpose!” one of the guards demanded. His voice carried the firm, practiced authority of someone accustomed to questioning strangers at the kingdom’s most heavily guarded entrance. His companion watched Lireina cautiously, keeping one hand close to the weapon at his waist.

“I am here to rescue my friend,” Lireina replied, fighting to keep her voice steady. She glanced beyond the guards toward the towering gate, her gaze searching for any sign of movement inside the fortress. “Please, let me through.”

The guards exchanged a brief look, apparently uncertain whether to allow her entry. Then one of them noticed the short white cape resting over her shoulders. His posture changed immediately, and the suspicion in his eyes gave way to recognition. He leaned toward his companion and whispered something under his breath.

“It’s the Celestial Wardens.”

The second guard looked at Lireina more carefully, seemingly confirming his companion’s observation. Whatever doubts he had disappeared as soon as he recognized the insignia associated with her organization. He straightened his back, turned toward the gatehouse, and raised a hand to signal the soldiers stationed above them.

“Open the gates!” he ordered before bringing a horn to his lips. A deep, resonant blast rang across the river, its sound echoing between the fortress walls and rising above the steady rush of water below. Moments later, a series of heavy mechanical groans emerged from the gatehouse. Chains rattled, gears ground against one another, and the massive wooden-and-metal structure began to move. The drawbridge slowly lowered toward the outer road, its weight causing the supporting mechanisms to shudder with every passing second. Dust drifted from the stonework as the bridge settled into place, forming a solid passage across the river and opening the way into the royal grounds.

“Thank you.”

She wasted no time waiting for a reply. Gathering her resolve, she stepped onto the bridge and crossed over the rushing river, the sound of her boots echoing against the solid surface. Beyond the entrance, the palace grounds stretched beneath the afternoon sun, lined with manicured gardens, paved walkways, and towering stone buildings guarded by soldiers in royal colors. The distant murmur of water fountains mingled with the rustling of leaves, creating an atmosphere of calm that stood in sharp contrast to the fear consuming her thoughts. Lireina kept her eyes forward and her pace steady as she passed through the gate, her white cape shifting behind her with each step. The Royal Palace of Empyrea had welcomed her inside, but she had no intention of staying long enough to admire its grandeur. She was there for one reason alone: to find Croft and bring her home alive.

The royal guards stationed along the palace grounds saluted as Lireina passed through the main entrance. Their movements were precise, their expressions solemn, and not a single one of them attempted to stop her. The polished surfaces of their armor glinted beneath the afternoon sunlight, while the royal banners hanging from the surrounding towers fluttered gently in the breeze. 

At first glance, everything appeared perfectly normal. There were no soldiers rushing toward her, no weapons pointed in her direction, and no signs of an ambush waiting behind the walls. So far, so good. However, rather than easing her anxiety, the lack of hostility only made Lireina more suspicious. She had been summoned to the Royal Palace by someone who had threatened to kill her best friend, yet the guards were treating her as though she were an honored guest. 

Why would her captors make entering the palace so easy? Were they confident that she could not escape, or had they prepared something far more sinister inside? Lireina kept her expression composed as she continued walking, but her senses remained alert. Her eyes occasionally shifted toward the surrounding buildings, searching for concealed enemies, while her fingers rested close to her pistols. She could not shake the feeling that the peaceful atmosphere was merely a mask hiding something terrible.

The paved courtyard stretched before her, its immaculate white stone reflecting the afternoon sunlight. Carefully trimmed hedges bordered the walkways, and elegant fountains stood among flower beds filled with colorful blossoms. Water trickled from the mouths of sculpted marble creatures, producing a soothing sound that seemed strangely out of place within a fortress. Beyond the gardens stood the main throne room, housed within the widest and tallest tower of the entire Royal Palace. Its enormous structure dominated the surrounding buildings, with towering columns supporting its upper levels and intricate carvings decorating its pale stone walls. From a distance, the tower looked almost like a monument built to celebrate the emperor’s absolute authority. 

Lireina walked straight toward it, her boots tapping against the smooth pavement. The closer she came, the more the towering entrance seemed to swallow the sunlight around it. She had visited many noble estates and military fortresses during her adventures, but the grandeur of the imperial throne room was on another level entirely. Despite its impressive appearance, she found nothing comforting about the place. Every step brought her closer to the person who had threatened Croft, and the uncertainty of what awaited her beyond those doors weighed heavily on her mind.

When Lireina finally reached the enormous entrance, she stopped briefly and studied the double doors. Their white surfaces were decorated with elaborate golden patterns depicting angels, swords, and the royal crest of Empyrea. She took a slow breath, trying to quiet the frantic beating of her heart, before placing both hands against the doors and pushing them open. The moment she stepped inside, a flood of brilliant white light struck her eyes. She instinctively narrowed them, raising one hand to shield her face as her vision adjusted to the overwhelming brightness. Everything in the throne room was white. The polished marble floor gleamed like freshly fallen snow, while the towering pillars and walls were made from the same spotless material. White curtains hung from the enormous windows, and pale carpets stretched along the central aisle. Even the furniture had been chosen to match the room’s immaculate appearance. Above her, a gigantic chandelier dangled from the ceiling, its countless crystals scattering sunlight across the chamber in dazzling fragments. The room was so bright and pristine that it almost seemed unreal, like a place where dirt, blood, and suffering had no right to exist. Yet the longer Lireina looked around, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The silence was unnaturally deep, broken only by the faint echo of her footsteps against the marble floor.

Then she saw her.

At the far end of the throne room, suspended from the enormous chandelier, was Croft.

“Croft!” Lireina screamed.

Her voice tore through the silent chamber, echoing between the white pillars before fading into the distant corners of the hall. For an instant, she could only stare at her best friend, struggling to comprehend what she was seeing. Croft’s arms had been bound tightly above her head, leaving her hanging helplessly beneath the chandelier. The ropes dug into her wrists, and her body swayed faintly whenever the air shifted through the room. Her head hung forward, and her hair partially concealed her face. From where Lireina stood, she could not see any obvious wounds or bloodstains on Croft’s clothing. There were no visible signs that she had been beaten, stabbed, or otherwise physically injured. Yet somehow, that only made the scene more disturbing. Croft had been deliberately tied up and displayed in the middle of the throne room like a trophy, placed high above the floor for anyone entering to see. 

Slowly, Croft stirred. Her fingers twitched against the ropes, and her head lifted by the smallest amount. Her eyelids fluttered several times before finally opening, revealing eyes that struggled to focus beneath the bright light. She seemed exhausted, barely able to keep herself conscious, and her breathing was so faint that Lireina could scarcely notice it from a distance. Nevertheless, when she heard Lireina’s voice, something changed in her expression. Recognition flickered across her face as she tried to turn toward the sound. Her lips parted, but it took her several attempts to produce a word.

“Lena…” Croft whispered weakly.

Hearing her nickname from her friend’s trembling lips nearly shattered Lireina’s composure. Relief washed over her at the realization that Croft was still alive, but it was quickly swallowed by anger at whoever had put her in this condition. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she searched the throne room for the person responsible. Her gaze traveled across the marble pillars, the empty spaces between the windows, and the elevated platform at the far end of the hall. That was when a man’s voice echoed through the chamber, smooth and unhurried, as though he were welcoming a guest to an ordinary afternoon gathering.

“So… You have finally made it here, Untouchable Windwalker.”

Lireina immediately turned toward the throne.

A blonde man with piercing green eyes sat comfortably upon the elevated seat, one leg resting over the other as he watched her with an expression of mild amusement. He wore an immaculate white tuxedo that matched the throne room, its fabric fitted perfectly to his body. Golden embroidery decorated the edges of his jacket, while a jeweled brooch rested against his chest. His neatly styled hair and handsome features gave him the appearance of a refined young nobleman, the sort of person who would attract admiring glances at royal banquets. Yet there was something deeply unpleasant about the way he looked at Lireina, as though he were examining an interesting object rather than another human being. He did not appear concerned by her sudden arrival, nor did he show the slightest discomfort at being confronted by someone whose friend he had apparently kidnapped. Instead, he leaned back against the throne, allowing his fingers to rest casually on its armrests.

Lireina recognized him immediately. There was no mistaking that face, for his likeness appeared on royal portraits and official documents throughout Empyrea. He was Alaric Eisenhower, the emperor’s first prince and one of the most influential figures in the kingdom. The realization made Lireina’s blood run cold. She had expected a criminal organization, a disgruntled noble, or perhaps an enemy seeking revenge against the Celestial Wardens. She had never imagined that the person behind Croft’s kidnapping would be a member of the imperial family itself. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, struggling to reconcile the prince’s polished appearance with the cruel scene he had arranged above his own throne.

“What is the meaning of this, Your Majesty!?” Lireina shouted.

Her voice rang through the chamber, carrying her anger across the marble floor. She deliberately addressed him with the respect his royal status demanded, but there was no warmth in her tone. She wanted answers, and she wanted them immediately. Why had he taken Croft hostage? What did he want from her? And why had he chosen to turn the throne room into such a disturbing spectacle? Alaric merely regarded her with an amused smile, apparently unbothered by her raised voice. He glanced briefly toward Croft, who was still hanging from the chandelier, before returning his attention to Lireina as though the helpless woman above him were nothing more than a decoration.

“This is nothing,” Alaric replied casually. He waved one hand as if dismissing an insignificant inconvenience. “You can have your friend back, if you want. I just want one thing from you, oh, Untouchable Windwalker.”

Lireina’s expression tightened. She glanced at Croft once more, checking whether her friend was still conscious, before fixing her eyes on the prince. The offer sounded simple, but nothing about the situation suggested that Alaric intended to let them leave peacefully. No one went to the trouble of kidnapping someone, tying her to a chandelier, and summoning a renowned adventurer to the palace merely to make an ordinary request. 

“What is it? I’ll do anything, just keep your promise and let go of Croft, Your Majesty,” Lireina said.

The words escaped her before she could fully consider their implications. She hated the thought of bargaining with someone who had endangered her best friend, but Croft’s life mattered more than her pride. 

“Oh, really?” Alaric asked.

He leaned forward slightly, his fingers curling around the armrests of his throne. For a brief moment, he seemed to savor the desperation in Lireina’s voice, as though her willingness to sacrifice anything for her friend were the very thing he had wanted to hear. Then his lips parted in a broad, malicious grin.

“Then please do me a favor…” He paused, allowing the silence to stretch between them. “And drop dead.”

The instant those words left his mouth, Lireina’s instincts screamed.

Something was coming.

Her Autonomous Evasion activated before her conscious mind could identify the threat. The hairs along the back of her neck stood on end, and an invisible warning seemed to flash through her senses. She immediately threw her upper body backward, bending at the waist just as two unseen blades sliced through the space where her neck had been. A faint hiss cut through the air, followed by the sharp sound of steel passing dangerously close to her skin. Had she reacted even a fraction of a second later, both blades would have slashed cleanly through her neck. Lireina felt the displaced air brush against her throat as the weapons passed, cold and sharp enough to make her skin prickle. She did not waste time trying to locate her attackers. With her body already bent backward, she planted both hands against the marble floor and kicked her legs upward, smoothly transitioning into a handstand. The polished stone felt cold against her palms, but she used that brief contact to propel herself into a rapid spin. Her legs swept through the air in a wide arc, driven by the momentum of her rotation.

Two figures flickered into view only when her boots struck them.

The impact landed with a heavy, metallic clang. Both attackers were hurled backward, their bodies tumbling through the air before crashing against the white walls of the throne room. The collision sent a violent shudder through their armor, and fragments of decorative stone scattered across the polished floor. Lireina landed lightly on her feet and immediately retreated several steps, putting distance between herself and the fallen enemies. Her eyes widened slightly as she finally got a clear look at them. 

These were no ordinary assassins. Both wore full-body white armor that covered them from head to toe, their streamlined designs bearing a striking resemblance to the Halochassis used by elite combatants. Their helmets concealed their faces behind smooth visors, while their armor was fitted with equipment that appeared designed for stealth and close-quarters combat. Even after being thrown against the wall, they moved with unnerving precision, their armored limbs shifting as they prepared to rise again. The blades in their hands shimmered faintly before becoming difficult to distinguish against the bright surroundings. Lireina could not tell whether their invisibility came from advanced technology, magic, or a combination of both, but one thing was clear: they had been waiting for the perfect moment to kill her.

“Bravo, Untouchable Windwalker. You sensed my Archangels.” Alaric began to clap slowly, the sound of his hands striking together echoing through the vast chamber. His face showed no trace of irritation that his assassins had failed to kill her. If anything, he seemed delighted by the display. “But it’s not over yet.”

Lireina’s eyes narrowed. The name Archangels immediately caught her attention, though she had little time to consider its significance. As Alaric finished speaking, a strange distortion rippled through the throne room. The air seemed to bend around the pillars, and faint outlines began appearing in places that had looked completely empty only moments earlier. One by one, armored figures emerged from concealment. Their white Halochassis-like armor blended almost perfectly with the pale surroundings, making it difficult to distinguish their bodies until they moved. Some materialized beside the pillars, while others appeared along the walls and near the entrance through which Lireina had entered. More silhouettes emerged from the shadows beneath the balconies, until the chamber seemed to be filling with soldiers from every direction. The soft hum of machinery gradually rose above the silence, accompanied by the clicking of armored joints and the metallic scrape of weapons being drawn.

Lireina slowly turned her head, taking in the growing number of enemies surrounding her. Ten became twenty, then fifty, and still more continued to reveal themselves. Before long, hundreds of Archangels had assembled throughout the throne room, their white armor forming an intimidating sea of identical figures. Every soldier carried a sword and shield, and their weapons caught the light as they raised them in unison. The synchronized movement produced a chilling chorus of metal scraping against metal. Some positioned themselves between Lireina and the entrance, while others spread out across the marble floor to prevent her from slipping through the gaps. Their formation was disciplined, leaving no obvious opening for escape. Above them all, Alaric remained seated on his throne, watching the spectacle with the relaxed expression of a man who had already decided the outcome of the battle. Croft still hung helplessly from the chandelier behind him, her exhausted body serving as a constant reminder of what would happen if Lireina lost.

For the first time since entering the palace, Lireina fully understood the severity of her situation. Her Autonomous Evasion had saved her from the initial ambush, but sensing an attack was one thing; surviving a battle against hundreds of elite soldiers was another. The Archangels had numerical superiority, specialized equipment, and the advantage of fighting on ground they had prepared in advance. Even if she could evade their attacks individually, the sheer number of enemies meant that one mistake could leave her surrounded and overwhelmed. Worse still, she could not simply unleash her full strength without considering Croft’s safety. A stray bullet, a ricocheting projectile, or a destructive spell could strike her friend while she was still bound above the floor. Every decision had to account for both her survival and Croft’s rescue. Lireina took a measured breath, feeling the cool air enter her lungs as she steadied her racing heartbeat. Her fingers flexed beside her pistols, and her gaze sharpened as she studied the surrounding formation. Fear was still there, coiled deep within her chest, but it was no longer the only thing she felt. Beneath it, anger began to rise, cold and unwavering.

Alaric had made one serious mistake. He had assumed that threatening someone Lireina cared about would make her an easy target. Instead, he had given her a reason to fight with everything she had.

Lireina lowered her stance as mana began to gather around her body. The air stirred around her boots, sending tiny ripples across the dust scattered on the marble floor. A faint glow spread over her equipment, and the familiar sensation of power coursed through her limbs. She could not afford to hold back any longer. If the Archangels intended to turn the throne room into a battlefield, then she would meet them on their own terms. Her eyes remained fixed on the army surrounding her, but her thoughts briefly returned to Croft. Hang on, Croft. I’m getting you out of here.

Then Lireina made her decision.

“Activating Second Form!”