Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats-Chapter 124: Under Attack

The tranquility of Lumina's grand entrance shattered in an instant. One moment, citizens flowed through the massive stone archway, merchants haggled with customers, and royal knights maintained their vigilant patrol—the next, chaos erupted as figures draped in black cloaks materialized seemingly from thin air, descending upon the unsuspecting populace with deadly intent.

The knights reacted with military precision, their years of training manifesting in seamless coordination. Steel flashed in the afternoon sun as they formed defensive perimeters around clusters of terrified civilians, their voices rising above the panicked screams with clear, authoritative commands. "This way! Move toward the inner district!" they shouted, guiding people away from the violence while simultaneously engaging the mysterious attackers.

Despite their discipline, knights began to fall. For every cloaked assailant cut down, another royal guard collapsed. Blood stained the cobblestones as the battle intensified, spreading from the entrance toward the heart of the capital. The ancient alarm bell began to toll—its deep, resonant warning echoing through every street and alleyway, mobilizing the kingdom's defenders.

Within the royal palace, King Alexander received the disturbing news with growing concern. His brow furrowed deeply as the knight captain described the coordinated assault. "Who would dare launch such a brazen attack against the capital?" he wondered, his mind racing through potential enemies with both the motivation and resources for such an audacious move.

Then, like a lightning bolt of realization, clarity struck him. His eyes widened with sudden understanding.

"Oh no," he breathed, his voice barely audible before turning sharply to Sir Roland. "Where is the Rothschild heir?"

"He's currently at the Hero Association building, Your Majesty," Roland replied promptly, his expression grave.

The king's face drained of color. "It's a distraction. Send forces to the Association building immediately!" His command cracked through the air like a whip.

As if summoned by his words, a tremendous explosion shook the palace foundations. Through the tall windows, they witnessed a portion of the Hero Association's western wall collapse in a cloud of dust and debris.

"NOW!" the king roared, his composure shattering completely.

Sir Roland bolted from the throne room, the weight of his armor seemingly forgotten as he sprinted through corridors and down staircases. Behind him, the king paced anxiously across the marble floor, the potential catastrophe unfolding in his mind. If harm befell the Rothschild heir while under royal protection, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Racing through the besieged streets, Roland dispatched black-cloaked attackers with efficient brutality. His seasoned blade found gaps in their defenses, leaving a trail of fallen enemies in his wake. He soon encountered a contingent of his knights, their armor spattered with blood but their discipline intact.

"Is everyone here?" he demanded, assessing their numbers.

"No, sir! Some remain defending the entrance," reported one knight, his breath labored.

Roland nodded tersely. "This number should suffice. Let's move!"

They advanced toward the Association building, the sounds of an intense battle growing louder with each step. Roland's expression tightened with apprehension. The thunderous impacts and explosive energy discharges suggested a confrontation far beyond typical combat—a clash of powers that ordinary knights might prove useless against.

When they finally rounded the corner, the scene confirmed his fears. Chairman Darius Stormcrest, hurtled through the air like a discarded toy, crashing into the ground with enough force to shatter the street. The impact crater spread outward, fragments of cobblestone raining down around the fallen warrior.

Roland stared in disbelief, momentarily frozen. The chairman—one of the strongest people in the kingdom—had been struck down.

But then, impossibly, the debris shifted. Massive stone fragments rose as Darius emerged from the wreckage, casually brushing dust from his shoulders. With deliberate movements, he rolled his neck, producing audible cracks, then calmly removed his tattered shirt to reveal a torso rippling with battle-hardened muscle.

Noticing the knights' arrival, the chairman acknowledged them with a nod. "Nice timing," he stated flatly, gesturing toward the opposite side of the damaged building. "Go help the princess."

Following his direction, Roland spotted Ambrose's group surrounded by black-cloaked figures, fighting desperately against the overwhelming numbers. At their center stood Princess Athena, her sword flashing like lightning as she carved through attackers, her royal training evident in every lethal movement.

…

In the heart of the maelstrom, Ambrose maintained an eerie calm, his analytical mind continuing to process the chaos surrounding them despite the immediate danger. Hualing stood as his unwavering shadow, her body positioned with lethal precision to intercept any threat that dared approach her master. On his other flank, Princess Athena moved with practiced grace, her sword weaving intricate patterns of death through the air as she attacked the opponent.

Bodies of fallen attackers already littered the ground around them, dark cloaks spread like pools of shadow across the cobblestones. Yet for every enemy cut down, two more seemed to materialize from the surrounding chaos, their numbers never diminishing despite the growing pile of their fallen comrades.

"Is there no end to them?" Ambrose wondered, his eyes scanning the battlefield with calculated assessment rather than panic. The attackers' persistence suggested organization and purpose beyond mere random violence.

A particularly large assailant at the front of the pack released a guttural roar, the battle cry serving as a signal. Like a black tide, the cloaked figures surged forward in unison, initiating another wave of assault.

Hualing catches the approaching attacker's sword in her bare hand, the sharp blade slicing deep into her flesh with a sickening sound. Where others would scream in agony, her expression remains perfectly unchanged—not so much as a wince betrays the pain she must feel. The attacker's eyes widen with unsettled disbelief at her inhuman composure.

When they attempt to retrieve their weapon, they discover it locked in Hualing's iron grip. Blood flows from her palm, but instead of dripping to the ground, it travels with unnatural purpose. The crimson liquid crawls along the metal, covering the blade in a rapidly spreading red coating. By the time understanding dawns in the attacker's eyes, the transformation is complete.

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Without warning, vicious spikes erupt from the sword's grip—razor-sharp projections of hardened blood that pierce through the attacker's hands and forearms. Their agonized scream splits the air as blood pours from their impaled limbs, feeding Hualing's growing crimson arsenal.

With a subtle gesture, she commands the spilled blood, drawing it from the ground and from her enemies' wounds. The liquid rises and coalesces into a massive, spinning disk of crystallized blood—a crimson buzzsaw humming with deadly potential.

Hualing swings this horrific creation in a wide arc, and the attackers caught in its path are simply obliterated. Bodies fall in sections, the cuts cauterized by the unnatural heat of her blood weapon, creating a grotesque gallery of bisected enemies around her.

…

Marcus cut down one of the men charging at him, his blade slicing through the attacker's defenses with practiced precision. As the body fell, he thought to himself that these people were probably from the Empire. He could tell this because he had seen the person with the rooster mask who was currently locked in fierce combat against the chairman. Though he had never encountered this specific masked individual in his previous life, he recognized the distinctive style of the mask as similar to those worn by certain Empire operatives he had encountered before. The animal-themed masks were a telltale sign of some sort of secret organization within the Empire.

What troubled Marcus deeply was the timing of this attack. Although relations between the Kingdom and Empire had been deteriorating for some time, they had not yet reached the point of open conflict. Even more puzzling, he couldn't recall any such bold assault on the capital occurring during this period in his previous life. This represented a significant deviation from the timeline he had experienced before.

As he dispatched another attacker, Marcus glanced around the battlefield, his experienced eyes quickly noting a disturbing pattern in the enemies' movements. They seemed to be specifically targeting Ambrose, their formations subtly shifting to create openings toward the Rothschild heir despite Hualing's fierce defense. Marcus wondered why they would be after Ambrose specifically. Did they intend to capture him for ransom? Such a plan seemed inconceivably foolish. Surely they weren't so deluded as to believe they could escape Victoria's wrath if they harmed her son. The Mad Star's retribution would be apocalyptic—no one who valued their life would risk such a fate. They wouldn't be that stupid as to think they'd survive such an action right?

Across the chaotic battlefield, Meihua and Adelaide were huddled together behind an overturned market stall, watching with wide eyes as the bodies of attackers continued to drop around them. Meihua observed the situation with a calculating gaze.

Meihua realized with a chill that it had really happened—the events she remembered from the book were unfolding before her eyes, albeit with significant variations. From what she recalled of the original story, in Marcus's second timeline, Princess Athena had been kidnapped by this secret organization from the Empire. Importantly, they had acted without the Emperor's knowledge or approval, their goal being to instigate a war between the two nations for reasons that were never fully explained in the story.

What troubled her now was how their presence here had changed things. From the coordinated movements of the attackers, she could see that these people weren't just targeting the princess as they had in the original story. They clearly intended to capture Ambrose as well.