(Aileen's POV)
It's such a strange feeling...
Watching all my friends fight while all I can do is stand here.
Grogher and Dorcha have already leapt onto Sidae and Hercules, urging them higher into the sky for a better view of the battlefield.
Aeltiàfisar, Baelkers, and Fheall appear atop the dragons' backs.
They're ready.
"Hold your positions!" Aeltiàfisar roars to the army.
No one reacts.
The battlefield has dissolved into chaos.
Flames rage through the camp while invisible enemies slaughter our people without mercy.
Then Lin makes her move.
A Night Spell washes over the entire encampment...
and suddenly, the enemy is revealed.
By all the clouds...
There are so many of them!
Orcs.
Trolls.
Mountain Gnomes.
Every one of them armed to the teeth.
Every one of them more ruthless than I ever imagined.
They seize anyone unlucky enough to fall into their hands and tear them apart as though they were nothing more than scraps of leaves.
It's horrifying.
Those who escape them are burned alive instead.
Especially the soldiers who collapsed from exhaustion and never had the chance to realize what was happening.
Thankfully, many of our warriors recover quickly and fight back with incredible determination.
The dragons, the Dilophosaurs, and the Gargoyles are turning the tide.
They know the enemy's language.
And when they have to...
they answer with the very same brutality.
Thanks to Crill, countless elves, gnomes, fairies, and sprites now stand shoulder to shoulder with their enemies—equal in size, equal in strength.
No one holds back.
Ploc and Crill conjure enormous whirlpools and hurl them into the blazing inferno.
It changes nothing.
If I've understood the way Dorcha's stepmother thinks...
then those flames have to be magical.
Extinguishing them won't be easy.
Fheall has taken command alongside Ceansì.
It takes only moments.
Between the two of them, they reshape the elves, gnomes, fairies, and sprites into a single battle formation.
Disciplined.
Compact.
Unyielding.
Beneath the sea...
the battle is just as fierce.
I've never seen anything like it.
Oh no...
Those torpedoes...
They're enormous!
They glide soundlessly through the resting ranks of the Sea Army.
Anyone they touch is struck by powerful electric shocks...
then killed.
Mermaids and Tritons surge forward to stop them.
Weapons in hand, they race through the water from every direction, battling both the torpedoes and gigantic crabs so savage they're terrifying to look at.
Schools of sharks keep rushing in to shield the Sea Army...
but claws and electric blasts spare none of them.
The crabs look starving.
As if they haven't eaten in forever.
Maybe they haven't.
This battle has become their feast.
The whales have raised thick, powerful barriers around themselves.
They're not warriors.
And they're nowhere near strong enough—or prepared enough—to fight against their orca cousins.
Oh no...
Adalgisa!
She's hurt.
Badly.
Rocchino is beside her.
I doubt he can think about anything else.
But without him...
how are the whales supposed to keep fighting?
Or even defend themselves?
They look completely lost.
The Tritons are struggling too.
"Varsos! They're wiping us out!" Queen Desideria cries.
"There are too many of them! We need help! We can't hold them back on our own!" Varsos shouts without pausing for even a heartbeat.
His trident crashes again and again against a gigantic, bloodthirsty orca.
The remains of a shark are still wedged between her jaws.
Varsos is in danger.
King Aisling rushes to his aid...
only to find himself in danger as well.
Several warriors immediately move in to support them.
One of the younger Tritons charges straight at the orca and, in one swift strike, drives the tip of his sword through the roof of her mouth.
The orca releases a piercing shriek...
then collapses lifelessly onto the seabed.
But the young Triton is still trapped inside.
Her razor-sharp teeth have torn into him.
He screams.
He can't get out.
And I can't do anything.
Damn it!
His companions call out to the nearest great white sharks and tiger sharks.
No one comes.
That's strange...
Why do they all look...
confused?
I don't understand...
Some of them are turning on their own schools!
No...
No, no!
Please, stop!
This is so frustrating!
They can't even hear me!
Urchoicha...
I'm sure this is her doing.
It's as though some invisible force is stopping them from telling friend from foe.
The Tritons refuse to give up.
After an agonizing struggle, they finally wrench the orca's jaws open...
and pull their companion free.
Too late.
He's dead.
(Urchoicha's POV)
"I told you, Badney. Turning them against each other was the best decision we could have made. Just look at them. They're ridiculous. Watching them slaughter one another is pure entertainment. Well... I can finally relax underwater. Our troops can enjoy the spectacle without lifting a single fin. All that's left for me is to carry out the choreography I designed."
I can't stop laughing.
This is far too easy.
All we have to do is move our hands toward the spheres showing the worlds above and below the sea...
and everything takes care of itself.
Simple.
Delightful.
Badney glances into my sphere and gives me an approving pat on the shoulder.
"Not badh, partner," she says with an admiring grin. "We're decisively brahve."
"Oh? And how are things going up there?"
"Oh... lookh for yourself."
I lean over her sphere.
Delicious.
They topple like dominoes.
One after another.
And they haven't the slightest idea who's behind it...
Their screams are music to my ears.
None of them will survive our invisible, poisoned weapons.
This couldn't be going any better.
"Well done, Badney. Truly well done."
"Thank youh, partner."
(Fheall's POV)
I guide Ceatha alongside Ceansì's gargoyle to help him take on Meannach's gigantic Mountcur and the troll.
Inmus comes racing toward us on his Dilophosaurus.
"Generals! What's happening?! Our people are being wounded, and they don't even know what's attacking them!"
"It's dark magic!" Ceansì shouts back. "We don't know how to fight it!"
"I do!" I cut in. "I'll try! You deal with those two!"
It's the only way.
"No! Rivelium will drain you dry!"
"It won't! And even if it does, I have no choice, General! Either me... or our people!"
I give Ceatha a gentle pat on his right shoulder.
He understands.
A heartbeat later we're above everyone else.
"Ready for the Rivelium, my friend?" I whisper.
Ceatha answers with a mighty roar.
Then he spreads his magnificent wings and hangs motionless in the sky, letting the wind carry him without moving a single muscle.
Good boy.
I know how much strength this will cost you...
but it's the only way I can cast the spell without anything getting in the way.
It's time.
I raise my arms toward the heavens, close my eyes, and cross my fists over my chest.
Then I begin the litany.
"O Sky, Earth, Air, and Fire... let all your power descend upon me! O Air, Fire, Sky, and Earth... reveal all evil and strike it down... so let it be!"
I repeat it again...
and again.
Softly at first.
Then louder.
Stronger.
Until every word echoes across the battlefield.
After a long while, warmth begins to gather in my hands.
A vibrant, celestial glow shimmers between my palms.
Now!
I throw my arms wide.
Light bursts outward like a colossal waterfall, flooding the battlefield.
"Ceatha... now!"
Ceatha slowly turns toward the faint sunlight.
The rays strike his iridescent scales...
then rebound into the celestial beam.
The magic swells.
Brighter.
Stronger.
Until its radiance spreads across the entire Kingdom of the Trolls.
Now...
"Rivelium Maximum!"
The spell unfolds in every direction, breaking every enchantment and revealing everything that has been hidden or transformed.
Just as I'd expected...
Crill's Nature Magic fades away with the rest.
Fairies, elves, sprites, and gnomes return to their natural size.
Panic spreads through the ranks.
It doesn't matter.
There was no better way to weaken the enemy.
Damn...
My arms are getting harder and harder to hold up.
They're shaking.
No.
Not yet.
Come on...
More.
Just a little more!
I force even more power into the spell.
The two Dark Queens won't withstand this.
(Badney's POV)
"Thaht cursed little witch! Without our tricks, this is going to be much harderh!"
"What's wrong?" Urchoicha asks.
What's wrohngh?
"What's wrohngh?! What's wrohngh is that that little pest is too strohngh for me! Too strohngh for all the Mountain Trolls! We need the other magics from our kingdoms! Nohw! Right nohw!"
Calm as hever, Urchoicha shifts her gaze to my sphere.
"That would be a pointless waste of time," she says. "There's no need to worry so much. Look at her. She's drenched in sweat... pale as a ghost. Even her lips have turned purple. She won't last much longer."
Uh...
I hadn't noticed thaht.
Maybe she's right.