Reinventing Magic: An Inventor's Tale-Chapter 44: The Final Stand

Keira’s grip on the Veilbreaker Staff tightened, her knuckles turning white as she faced Count Gregor. His smirk was maddening, a mask of unshakable arrogance that made her blood boil.

"You can’t hurt me, girl," Count Gregor taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You’re too weak. Your spells are nothing more than parlor tricks compared to my defenses."

Her pulse pounded in her ears. She refused to let his words shake her. Raising her Veilbreaker staff, she unleashed a relentless barrage—blades of wind slicing through the air, arcs of searing fire twisting toward him, jagged shards of ice streaking forward with lethal precision. Yet, each attack met the shimmering barrier of Gregor’s Amulet of Aegis, dissipating like harmless wisps of smoke.

Frustration gnawed at her. She needed more. Something stronger. fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

Then she remembered Kael’s preprogrammed spell. Magic was not just power—it was understanding, control, and the right moment. She channeled her energy into her Veilbreaker staff, activating a stored spell. A hum filled the air as the Veilbreaker Staff surged with radiant energy.

A moment later, a blinding column of condensed beams tore through the battlefield, a Proton Beam screaming toward its target like a lance of divine retribution.

Gregor merely raised a hand. His barrier shimmered, absorbing the devastating attack with ease. He chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

"Is that all you got? Pathetic."

Keira’s heart sank, but she had no time for doubt. Gregor turned to his remaining mages, his expression hardening.

"Fire at her with everything you’ve got. Let’s see how long she can keep this up."

The mages under Count Gregor’s command raised their staffs, channeling their mana into a barrage of spells. Fireballs, ice shards, and bolts of lightning hurtled toward Keira with deadly intent. Keira reacted instantly, soaring higher into the sky to evade the onslaught. The spells exploded harmlessly below her, leaving smoke in their wake.

"If you want to live, girl," Gregor’s voice thundered below. "Give me that staff!"

Keira’s eyes burned with defiance. "Never!"

---

Across the battlefield, another duel was reaching its climax.

Tiberius, bloodied and bruised, dropped to one knee. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body screaming for relief. But retreat was never an option. He had fought too many battles and stared death in the face too many times. Running was not in his nature.

"Better to die than flee in disgrace," he muttered, spitting blood onto the scorched earth.

Summoning every last ounce of strength, he gripped Dreadnought and surged forward, a final charge, a warrior’s last stand. The greatsword descended in a sweeping arc, aiming to cleave Alice in two.

Alice did not move. Not until the last second.

Then she vanished.

A flicker. A shift. And suddenly, she was above him.

With a single, fluid motion, she spun midair, her leg lashing out in a devastating kick.

The impact was catastrophic.

The ground beneath them shattered, a massive crater exploding outward from the sheer force. Tiberius’s body slammed into the earth with bone-crushing finality. Silence followed. The once-mighty knight commander lay motionless, his strength utterly spent.

The enemy soldiers who had watched the duel unfold stood frozen, horror twisting their expressions.

"That... that can’t be," one soldier stammered.

"Tiberius was unstoppable," another whispered, disbelief choking his words.

Alice turned to them, her silver-gray eyes devoid of emotion. She raised her hand, mana swirling ominously around her palm.

"Surrender," she said, her voice cold and final. "Or be annihilated."

A blinding light formed in her grasp—another Proton Cannon, charged and ready.

Panic erupted.

"She’s a monster!" one soldier shrieked. "Run! Run if you want to live!"

The ranks broke. Chaos took hold. Soldiers threw down their weapons, fleeing in terror as Alice unleashed the blast. The beam carved through the battlefield, consuming everything in its path. The devastation was absolute.

Victor stood at a distance, his hands clenched around the hilts of his swords. He had always believed himself strong. Nightsbane and Dawnbreaker were weapons of legend, forged to cut through the darkness and bring justice.

But now he saw the truth.

He was weak.

If he could not even wield his weapons to their full potential, what use was he?

Alice appeared beside him in a blink, her expression unreadable. "Victor. The battle isn’t over. Count Gregor remains."

He exhaled sharply, shoving aside his doubts. Turning to his soldiers, he raised his twin blades high, the light from the rising sun glinting off the steel.

"Valtieri, advance!" His voice rang clear, commanding. "Cut them down!"

A thunderous roar erupted from his army. Five thousand Valtieri soldiers surged forward, their war cries shaking the heavens as they pursued the retreating enemy.

Count Gregor, watching the chaotic retreat of his men, shouted in disbelief. "Who ordered you to retreat?!" His voice was filled with rage and frustration.

One of his retreating soldiers, his voice trembling, reported, "Tiberius has been defeated, my lord."

Count Gregor’s eyes widened in shock. "What?! Impossible!" he growled, his mind racing. He knew that with Tiberius defeated, their numerical advantage was no longer a guarantee of victory. The sight of Victor and his men charging toward them was the final straw.

"Retreat!" Count Gregor commanded, his voice filled with bitter resignation. "We must retreat!"

As the enemy forces began their hasty retreat, the Valtieri soldiers erupted into a cacophony of triumph. "We’ve won! We’ve won!" they shouted, their voices echoing across the battlefield, mingling with the scent of smoke and victory. The air was electric with joy and relief, as if the very earth itself celebrated their triumph.

Victor watched the retreating enemy, his heart swelling with an uncontainable pride. They had won the battle, but he knew deep in his bones that the war was far from over. He took a deep, steady breath, his eyes scanning the faces of his exhausted but exhilarated men.

With a determined nod, Victor turned to his soldiers, his voice ringing out with a strength that galvanized their spirits.

"Valiant warriors of Valtieri, we have won this battle, but the war is not yet over. We must remain vigilant and prepare for what lies ahead. For Valtieri, for our people, we must stand strong and united. This victory is ours, but so too will be the ultimate victory. Together, we are unstoppable!"

A roar erupted from the men, their unity and determination palpable. "Hurrah!" they cried, their voices a single, thunderous chorus that resonated through the heavens.

The battlefield, once a place of carnage and despair, now stood as a testament to their unwavering resolve and indomitable spirit.

Keira, Alice, and Victor stood amidst the battlefield, their victory hard-earned. The sun rose beyond the horizon, casting a golden glow over the war-torn land. For now, they had won the day. But the war had only just begun.

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