Even though the Nexus knights held a formidable formation, the Tartagalian soldiers were simply too many. They were outnumbered, even with the reinforcements from the Empire of Peris.
The wide shore had turned into a battlefield. The once soft sand was now tainted crimson with blood. The exhaustion in the eyes of Nexus knights was clear—no matter how many they struck down, the enemies just kept coming.
Even with Princess Aquila's magic raining down from above, even with the steady support of the archers, the tide wasn't turning.
Then, a scarred Tartagalian commander charged straight at Zuleika, spear in hand.
"Cheeky Princess!" he roared, thrusting his weapon at her.
Zuleika twisted her sword, diverting the spear's trajectory with practiced precision. Her brows furrowed as she met his glare.
"Still cheeky as ever!" the commander bellowed.
"Sorry? Who are you?" Zuleika asked, genuinely confused.
The commander froze, flustered. His face reddened as he jabbed a finger at the long scar across his cheek.
"YOU! YOU GAVE ME THIS UNFORGETTABLE SCAR!"
Zuleika tilted her head, unimpressed.
"Hm… I see."
"WELL I AM VLAD! THE FOURTH COMMANDER OF TARTAGALIA! NOW DIE BY MY HAND!"
He swung again, but Zuleika ducked smoothly, her blade flashing across his torso.
Vlad groaned, staggering. Before he could recover, Zuleika moved like lightning—her sword severed his head cleanly.
She stood over his fallen body with emotionless eyes, wiping the blood from her cheek. But when her gaze lifted, she saw the battlefield for what it was: a losing war. Her knights looked weary, their formation breaking, morale slipping.
Her eyes caught another commander—a small, agile man with twin daggers—cutting through Nexus soldiers like a phantom, his wicked grin stretching wider with each kill. Knights fell like wheat before a scythe, their morale crumbling.
Before Zuleika could move to intercept him, another figure blocked her path.
"Not so fast, young lady."
It was an older man, composed and deadly, his hand resting on the hilt at his waist.
"It is my honor to fight the Princess of Nexus. I am Chen, Second Fleet Commander." He bowed with unsettling formality.
Zuleika's eyes narrowed, but her gaze flicked past him—to the dagger-wielding commander still rampaging unchecked.
Then steel hissed. In an instant, Chen's sword was aimed for her neck.
But Zuleika did not flinch. Her blade rose and met his strike with perfect ease.
Chen's eyes widened. "I see… you possess a unique eyesight." He stepped back, his expression darkening.
"But you know this war is already lost, don't you?" he said coldly.
"Nexus never bends," Zuleika muttered, her voice calm but sharp as steel.
Chen laughed, low and cruel. "Even though your knights are already dying?"
But before their duel could begin, a shockwave split the battlefield. Dozens of Tartagalian soldiers went flying, slamming into the sand unconscious.
Chen's eyes widened in horror. "What—?"
A commanding voice rang out.
"Your Highness, I apologize for my tardiness."
From the dust, the figure of a man stepped forth—Knight Grand Cross Wesley Chad Baton. His very presence radiated strength. He wasn't just one knight; he was worth a thousand.
Zuleika's lips curled into a smile. She raised her sword, meeting Chen's eyes.
"Now…" she said softly, almost playfully, "shall we continue the party?"
Chen's face hardened, his sword lifting once more. And the battle between them truly began.
Steel clashed against steel, sparks flying with every collision as Zuleika and Chen weaved through the chaos of the battlefield. His movements were sharp, deliberate—he wasn't fast like the dagger-wielding commander, but his sword carried the weight of decades of experience.
Chen smirked as their blades locked.
"Your stance is impressive. Tell me, did Nexus teach you to fight like this, or is it just instinct?"
Zuleika's eyes narrowed. She gave no answer, only pushed back with sudden force, sending Chen stumbling a step.
"Tch. Silent, are we? That's fine. I'll speak for the both of us," Chen said, circling her, his tone almost conversational despite the carnage around them. "You know why Tartagalia will win, Princess? Because we never cling to honor. Nexus knights fight with pride. We fight with hunger. Guess who wins in the end?"
Zuleika's lips pressed thin, her silence sharper than any insult.
Chen lunged again, his sword aiming for her chest. Zuleika parried with precision, her blade dancing faster now. The sound of metal striking metal rang loud, echoing across the battlefield.
Then, mid-motion, Zuleika's sword began to shimmer. A faint blue glow crawled along the steel, liquid-like, as if the ocean itself had been summoned to coat her blade. Droplets spiraled from the edge, glittering before vanishing into mist.
Chen's eyes widened.
"So the rumors are true… the blood of the sea flows through you." He grinned, wicked and eager. "Good. Show me. Show me what it means to be Chosen."
Zuleika struck, her sword cutting through the air like a crashing wave. The impact forced Chen back, his boots digging into the sand.
"Magnificent!" he laughed, almost drunk on the thrill. "But power like that only shortens your life. Use it too much, and it will devour you, girl."
This time, Zuleika answered, her voice calm but edged with disdain.
"Then I'll let it devour everything in front of me first."
She advanced, her strikes growing heavier, swifter, each swing trailing with the rhythm of tides. Chen blocked desperately, sweat running down his temple, his earlier arrogance cracking.
"This is… absurd," he muttered, his arm trembling against the force of her blows. "How can a single princess—"
Zuleika's crimson eyes slowly lit, glowing like molten rubies in the dim battlefield. Chen froze, his breath caught. The air shifted—suffocating, heavy, like the deep sea pressing down on every soul within its reach.
Even the Tartagalian soldiers faltered mid-charge, and Nexus knights turned their heads, wide-eyed, as the aura spread. The ocean itself seemed to respond, waves rising higher against the shore, crashing harder as though echoing her heartbeat.
Chen's face twisted in horror.
"Th-this presence… no, it's not human… it's—"
Zuleika silenced him with one swift, fluid strike. Her blade, glowing with the ocean's fury, cleaved through his defense and straight into his chest.
Chen gasped, blood bubbling at his lips. His wide eyes stared at her glowing crimson gaze—eyes that belonged not just to a warrior, but to a chosen heir of the sea itself.
In that final moment, terror overtook him.
Then Zuleika pulled her blade free, and Chen collapsed lifelessly onto the blood-soaked sand.
For a heartbeat, silence.
And then, like a ripple across the battlefield, the weight of her unleashed power spread. Both ally and enemy felt it—the fear, the awe, the undeniable truth.
The Princess of Nexus was not someone to be trifled with.
Across the battlefield, Sir Wesley stood tall, his armor splattered with blood, though not his own. In one hand, he casually held the severed head of the rampaging dagger-wielder before tossing it aside like mere trash. His sharp gaze fell on Zuleika, who had just finished cutting down Chen.
"Impressive," Wesley murmured, lips tugging into the faintest smirk. "Her Highness just keeps on improving."
With a clean motion, he slid his sword back into its sheath.
"DIE!" a Tartagalian soldier screamed, lunging at him.
Wesley didn't even bother drawing his weapon again. His body shifted, swift as the wind, and with a single martial-arts strike, the soldier collapsed unconscious at his feet.
Calmly, Wesley clasped both hands behind his back, surveying the field. His eyes roamed past the horizon, to the mass of Tartagalian ships still anchored and advancing across the waters, then down to the battered Nexus knights struggling to hold their line.
"If their morale doesn't change soon…" he muttered under his breath, voice grave, "…we're going to lose this battle." Another Tartagalian rushed at him—another simple palm strike, and the man was sent sprawling, out cold.
Meanwhile, Zuleika staggered after unleashing her sea-born power. The world spun, her lungs burned, and when she pressed a hand to her lips, it came away stained with red.
"Shit…" she muttered hoarsely, coughing again. "I still can't control it." Her crimson eyes dimmed slightly as she straightened, wiping the blood from her chin with the back of her hand. "It's still too much for me…"
The Tartagalians saw her falter, and a pack of them surged forward with war cries, blades raised high. Zuleika tried to steady her sword, preparing to defend herself—
—but before steel could meet her flesh, the soldiers erupted in a violent explosion, fire and smoke swallowing them whole.
Zuleika's breath caught, eyes widening. The shockwave parted, and her gaze darted upward.
There, atop Nexus's walls, silver eyes gleamed like twin moons. Aquila stood poised, her face serious and resolute, magic still glowing faintly at her fingertips.
For a moment, the battlefield fell away, leaving only their eyes locked across the distance.
Then Zuleika, ever the fool in the most dangerous moments, waved her hand at Aquila with a ridiculous grin.
"Ack! She's still so pretty!" she yelled, ducking under an incoming strike before countering with a swift slash to drop another soldier.
Aquila furrowed her brows from the wall, exasperated. What was that idiot doing, waving in the middle of battle?
And yet—despite herself, despite the bloodshed raging below—her lips softened into a smile.
That idiot.