The assassin didn't answer. Assassins rarely did. He lunged forward, dagger in hand, a thin blade coated with poison, shimmering faintly in the dim light.
The dagger struck Kelvin's chest…
TZZZZZHHMMMM!
As if sensing the wearer in danger, a blinding yellow dome of energy erupted outward from Kelvin's necklace, the silver pendant gifted by Duke Emanuel on his first birthday. The force of it sent the assassin skidding backward across the room, crashing into a bookshelf.
"What???Rank 2 barrier?! On a brat?!" the man hissed clearing shocked by the Development, scrambling to regain his footing.
Kelvin touched the pendant, asking in intrigue. "Oh… it works?" His small voice trembled, but only from wonder as if he don't care about his life.
The assassin growled, recovering. "Fine. Let's see you block this." His fingers formed rapid hand seals, mana gathering violently in his palm.
"I have to kill him fast, there are too many variable in the house" he muttered, eyes cold and cruel.
Kelvin felt a strange pressure on his chest, not mana, because he couldn't sense it, but a palpitating instinctive warning that danger was imminent. His fingers twitched, reaching toward the necklace to feel safe.
The assassin thrust his hand forward with a rank 1 magic Spell 'Piercing Flame Spike.'
A Spike of compressed fire, sharp as sword and carrying lethal intent with a pointy tip, shot toward Kelvin with a hissing sound. The spike burned with raw energy, cutting through the air like a blade.
Kelvin's eyes widened, the realization of imminent danger sparking a mixture of fear and instinct.
'Mommy, Daddy, Uncle save me' he screamed in his mind.
..............
Michael, how was in kitchen preparing food sense the mana fluctuation in the air.
" It's coming from kel's room" filled with fear he used every acceleration spell he knew and ran towards kelvin room.
While running he saw guards collapse to the ground, some of them flowing blood from their neck, this time he was sure that kelvin's life is in danger, as he approached the room he remembered the promised he have once made with Edward….
Years ago, before Kelvin was born, Michael had been a wandering mercenary. Back then, he was known as the Iron Hound, a man whose reputation for skill and cunning preceded him wherever he travelled. He fought for money, for survival, and occasionally, for dignity, though the last was rare in the lawless world he frequented.
During one mission near the eastern border, his unit had been ambushed by a horde of mana beasts, creatures that seethed with elemental energy, eyes burning like coals, claws capable of slicing steel, and scales that shimmered with molten veins of raw mana. They struck with precision and savagery, coordinated in a way that suggested intelligence beyond instinct. Michael's squad was outnumbered, cornered in a narrow canyon where the cliffs amplified the roar of the beasts.
"Hold the line!" Michael barked, gripping his sword tightly, its edge chipped from the day's battles. "We can't let them surround us!"
But the creatures were relentless. One of the larger beasts, a peak rank 1 fire beast, scales glowing crimson and heat radiating off its body charged at him. Michael swung his sword, but the beast's speed was unmatched. Its claw raked across his chest, sending him sprawling into the dust. Flames licked at the rocks, sparks igniting the dry brush nearby. His comrades fell one by one, screams echoing against the canyon walls.
Michael scrambled to his feet, pain radiating through every limb. He swung what remained of his blade, striking one of the smaller beasts in the neck, but another leapt over his shoulder, knocking him down with a bone-crushing force. Blood ran freely down his side, and his mana reserves were nearly depleted.
"I--I can't hold it!" one of the younger mercenaries shouted, fear in his eyes.
Michael gritted his teeth. "Then die fighting! That's all we can do!"
But even he knew their odds were slim. The fire beast advanced, a low growl resonating from its chest as molten embers danced around its maw. It lunged. Michael raised his sword in a last desperate block, but the edge shattered against its fiery scales. Flames licked his arms, burning through his clothes. Pain seared through him, and he felt the world narrowing to a single, terrifying moment. Death hovered over him, patient and cruel.
Just as the beast prepared to strike again, a figure appeared in the canyon's mouth, a silhouette against the orange glow of fire. Edward. Not a soldier, not a knight, but a weapon refiner, carrying a massive forge hammer instead of a sword. His eyes were fierce, and his posture was calm, almost casual, as though he walked into the chaos without fear.
Before Michael could respond, Edward charged forward. He swung the hammer with incredible force, striking the fire beast squarely on its snout. The creature roared in rage and pain, staggering backward, flames scattering across the canyon. Sparks flew from Edward's hammer as if the weapon itself drew upon the raw mana in the air.
"You're not dying today!" Edward bellowed, swinging again, this time striking a smaller beast to death.
Michael blinked, disbelief etched across his face. "You…?"
"Shut up and move!" Edward shouted. With precision born of instinct and experience, he struck down two more creatures, then reached Michael's side. He grasped Michael under the arms and hoisted him up, carrying him as if he weighed nothing.
The fire beast recovered and charged once more, flames roaring, but Edward didn't falter. He swung the hammer in a wide arc, smashing the beast off the cliffside. Michael, barely conscious, clung to him. "You… saved me…" he gasped.
Edward grunted, sweat and soot mixing on his face. " You are not dying on me, Not today."
They ran together, dodging falling rocks and smaller beasts. Edward's hammer struck anything that dared get close, each swing precise, each movement purposeful. Michael could only stare, amazed and terrified in equal measure of this uncanny slaughter.