Killian froze the moment the voice faded from his mind.

  It wasn’t the first time Lord Arzan had spoken to him like that, but this time, the weight of the order pressed down on him all at once.

  Kill Regina.

  The queen of the kingdom.

  For a heartbeat, the words didn’t feel real. Someone like her wasn’t supposed to be hunted down by a single Knight, no matter how strong he was.

  But there was no room for doubt.

  Around him, the wall was alive with chaos. His men poured over the battlements, ropes swinging, boots slamming into stone. Arrows flew past his shoulders. Spells burst in flashes of heat and light, washing the air with smoke and the sharp smell of mana.

  The battle was already underway.

  Killian forced himself to move.

  As he turned, he spotted Duke Blackwood hauling himself over the wall, Gareth close behind him, cutting down a soldier who rushed too late.

  Killian raised his voice. “Duke Blackwood, I need to go to the castle.”

  The old duke frowned, blood streaking the edge of his armor. “Why?” he demanded. “We need you here. The wall isn’t secured yet.”

  “Lord Arzan ordered it. Regina is still alive.” He met his eyes. “This doesn’t end unless she’s dead. He also said to send soldiers to evacuate the commoners. He said the city might not survive.”

  For a moment, the duke stared at him. Then his eyes widened, understanding settling in. He nodded once. “Go.”

  Gareth stepped forward immediately. “I’m coming with you.”

  Killian shook his head.

  “No. Stay here. Help secure the wall. I can handle this.”

  Gareth hesitated, jaw tight, but Killian was already moving.

  He turned and sprinted along the inner walkway, boots splashing through blood and debris. Soldiers shouted as he passed. A Mage’s spell exploded against the stone not far from him, heat licking at his back. He felt it, registered it, and ignored it.

  He knew the walls well.

  He had walked these walls as a child, guided by his father. His feet took him down the right turns without thought, toward the narrow stairwell that led back into the city.

  As he reached it, a deep, cracking sound split the air.

  Stone groaned and the scream of men followed immediately.

  Killian glanced back just in time to see a section of the wall buckle inward, chunks of masonry tearing free as the siege breaker smashed through. Dust and smoke erupted upward.

  The wall had fallen.

  He couldn’t help his lips curling upward. The wall falling already decided which way the tide of battle would move. He did not slow down. He rushed down the stairs two at a time, boots striking stone hard enough to sting, but pain no longer mattered.

  At the base of the wall, enemy soldiers were already regrouping. Three of them stood in his path, and one wore the long robes of a Mage. The man’s hands were glowing, mana already forming between his fingers.

  Killian frowned. He did not have time for this.

  Lightning surged through his blade in an instant. He stepped forward and struck before the Mage could even finish his spell. The blade pierced straight through the man’s chest.

  The unstable spell structure detonated where it stood, exploding outward in a violent burst.

  Two nearby soldiers were caught in it, torn apart before they could scream. Blood and fragments rained onto the broken stones.

  Killian moved through the gore and heat without looking back, stepping over shattered armor and bodies as he entered the streets.

  The city was in ruins.

  Entire sections of buildings had been burned black, their walls cracked open like split bones. Some houses were missing roofs altogether. The streets were littered with debris. Large craters marked where spells had struck, deep enough to swallow carts whole. Bodies lay scattered at the edges of the streets, some crushed beneath rubble, others burned so badly they were barely recognizable.

  No commoners were outside. Doors were shut tight, windows barred. He doubted the people hiding inside were safe, but there was nothing he could do for them now. Gareth would hopefully get all of them out in time.

  Killian rounded a corner just as another explosion burst out in the sky. He looked up for a second.

  High above the city, the sky itself seemed to be tearing apart.

  Lord Arzan was fighting something—someone—unlike anything Killian had ever seen. A woman hovered in the air with massive, dark leathery wings spread wide behind her. Each time she moved, darkness rippled around her, and claw-shaped projectiles flew toward Lord Arzan at impossible speeds.

  Lord Arzan answered with his own spells. Fire, wind, and ice collided with the darkness in violent bursts. Killian felt them even from the streets below, strong enough to rattle his bones and shake loose more debris from the rooftops.

  This was not a battlefield meant for him.

  Killian tore his eyes away from the sky. Lord Arzan did not need help up there. What he needed was Regina dead.

  Killian tightened his grip on his weapon and broke into a sprint, weaving through the ruined streets. He took every turn from memory, cutting through alleys and shattered plazas without hesitation. This was the city he had grown up in, and even burning and broken, it could not hide its paths from him.

  He pushed more mana into his legs, lightning snapping briefly around his boots as he used [Lightning Step]. Each stride carried him far ahead, clearing broken streets and shattered ground in long arcs.

  He landed, pushed off again, and repeated the motion, closing the distance to the royal castle faster than any horse could manage.

  When the castle finally came into full view, Killian slowed, his eyes widening at the state of it.

  It looked ruined.

  Entire sections of the outer walls had been torn open. One wing of the castle was collapsing inward, floors caving as support pillars cracked and gave way. Smoke poured from shattered windows, and fires burned unchecked along balconies and rooftops. Chunks of masonry still fell from above.

  This wasn’t siege damage. This was the aftermath of something far worse.

  He sprinted through the castle grounds as screams echoed from every direction. Soldiers shouted orders that no one followed. Servants ran blindly, some injured, some already dying. He knew how many people lived within these walls—hundreds, at any given time—and the thought tightened something in his chest. Very few of them would make it out alive.

  There was nothing he could do.

  Lord Arzan had given him one task, and Killian intended to see it through. But as he ran, his eyes scanned every intact structure, every shadowed corridor, every half-standing tower and one question rang inside his mind.

  Where the hell was Regina?

  He saw no sign of her.

  A cold thought crossed his mind.

  Was she already dead?

  No, Killian refused to accept that without seeing it himself.

  He pushed deeper into the grounds, circling broken buildings and leaping over debris, until sudden movement caught his eye.

  Someone burst out of a cracked building ahead.

  Killian skidded to a stop.

  The man was young, dressed in fine but torn noble clothing, his hair matted with dust and blood. His eyes were wide and unfocused. But there was also a stark fear reflected in them, and he kept looking around as if scared something was going to jump up on him.

  Killian did not hesitate. He closed the distance in a burst of speed and seized the man by the collar before he could even scream. The noble froze instantly, eyes wide, breath coming out in short, panicked gasps.

  “Please—please don’t kill me,” the man blurted out. “I’m just the third son of a Viscount. I’m not important. I swear.”

  Killian’s grip tightened just enough to steady him. “I’m not here to kill you,” he said flatly. “I need information. Have you seen Regina?”

  The color drained from the man’s face. “Q–Queen Regina?” he whispered.

  Killian nodded.

  “Yes,” the noble said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “I—I saw her near the western garden. I was trying to get out through there when… when I saw her.”

  His voice shook. His eyes darted, unfocused, as if the memory itself frightened him.

  “She didn’t look human,” he continued, swallowing hard. “She looked like a… a monster. There were things coming out of her. Tendrils. She was fighting a Knight, and I— I didn’t stay to see what happened. I just ran.”

  Killian released him slowly. “What do you mean she looked like a monster?”

  “I don’t know,” the man stammered. “I don’t know how to explain it. It was wrong. Everything about her was wrong. Please—please don’t make me go back.”

  Killian stepped aside and frowned. “Go.”

  The noble didn’t need to be told twice. He stumbled away, nearly tripping over broken stone as he fled into the ruined streets.

  Killian watched him disappear, then turned west.

  He slowed his mana flow, letting the lightning settle beneath his skin instead of burning through his limbs. If the man’s words were true, he would need everything he had.

  It took several minutes to reach the western garden. The path was choked with debris—fallen pillars, shattered stone, scorched earth where spells had struck from the sky. Trees lay split in half, their trunks blackened, leaves still smoldering.

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  When Killian finally stepped into the garden proper, he stilled.

  The man hadn’t been lying.

  Regina stood ahead of him.

  Dark tendrils writhed around her like living shadows, tearing grooves into the ground as they moved. Blood ran down the side of her head, matting her hair. One arm hung at an unnatural angle, clearly broken, yet she stood upright, unyielding. Whatever Killian had expected to see today, it had not been this.

  In front of her, a Knight knelt on the ground.

  Killian recognized him at once.

  Roderic—King Sullivan’s personal Knight. Killian had seen him during the Assembly of Judgment at the castle and Lord Arzan had also talked about him. And now the same man was on his knees.

  Roderic’s armor was cracked and dented, his sword trembling in his grip. Blood ran down the side of his head, matting his hair, and his breathing was heavy and uneven.

  Killian didn’t have time to question how this had happened.

  Two tendrils lifted from the ground, spikes forming along their lengths as they surged toward Roderic. The Knight raised his sword in a last, desperate attempt to defend himself, but it was obvious he didn’t have the strength left.

  Killian moved.

  Lightning surged through his legs as he used his movement technique, the world blurring for a heartbeat. He appeared between Roderic and the attack and swung his blade in a wide arc. Lightning wrapped around the steel, and both tendrils were severed cleanly, crashing to the ground in smoking fragments.

  Killian barely had time to register the success before the severed ends twitched, and grew back.

  The tendrils reformed in seconds, flesh knitting itself together as if the cut had never happened. Killian’s eyes widened.

  “What the fuck are you?” he asked, looking straight at Regina.

  In response she locked her eyes onto him, her lips curling into a smirk.

  “That is no way to speak to your queen,” she said calmly and her gaze sharpened. “And aren’t you Arzan’s little lackey? What are you doing here?”

  Killian tightened his grip on his sword. “I’m here to kill you.”

  Regina snarled, the sound low and feral. “We’ll see about that. Even your master couldn’t finish the job.”

  Killian didn’t bother replying.

  He charged.

  More tendrils burst from Regina’s back, lashing toward him from different angles. One shot low, aiming for his legs, but Killian flooded his body with lightning. The air around him crackled as the tendrils burned and recoiled before they could reach him.

  “I see you have tricks,” Regina said, her voice thick with irritation. “But they won’t last long.”

  As she spoke, even more tendrils erupted from her body, slamming into the debris scattered around the garden. Broken stone, shattered columns, and chunks of fallen masonry began to lift from the ground, dragged toward her by the writhing mass.

  Killian’s eyes widened as a massive slab of stone tore free from the ground and hurtled toward him. He twisted his wrist and slashed upward, lightning screaming along the edge of his blade. The strike split the slab apart midair, shards raining down as he raised an arm to shield his eyes.

  He barely had time to breathe before another piece of debris followed—then another.

  The tendrils were everywhere now, latching onto broken walls, shattered columns, and chunks of marble torn from the garden paths. One after another, Regina hurled them at him like siege weapons.

  Killian stopped trying to destroy them.

  Instead, he moved.

  He darted between falling stones, boots skidding across cracked ground, lightning flashing beneath his feet as he weaved through the chaos. His voice cut through the noise as he shouted, “Get out of here! I’ll handle Regina!”

  He did not wait to see if Roderic heard him.

  A boulder the size of a carriage flew straight at him. Killian leapt onto it as it passed, using its momentum to propel himself forward. He pushed off hard, lunging through the air and bringing his blade down toward Regina in a lightning-charged strike.

  Tendrils surged up instantly, wrapping around the sword and stopping it inches from her body. Lightning scorched them black, but they did not release. Instead, more tendrils coiled around his ankles, yanking him off balance.

  Killian gritted his teeth and released a burst of mana outward.

  Electricity exploded from his body in a blinding flash. Regina hissed and staggered back, the tendrils recoiling long enough for him to rip his blade free. He stepped in and slashed at her shoulders with everything he had.

  The sword bit into her flesh.

  Black, viscous matter spilled out instead of blood.

  Before he could drive the blade deeper, tendrils wrapped around her remaining arm and she swung wildly. Her fist slammed into his face with terrifying force. Killian was thrown backward, crashing into the ground hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

  He rolled to a stop just as Regina straightened, her expression twisted with rage. She touched her neck and shoulders, where lightning scorch marks still smoked.

  “You are an annoying pest,” she snarled.

  Even as she spoke, the burned tendrils regenerated, smooth and whole once more. They stretched outward, sinking into the wreckage around the garden.

  Then Regina lifted her arm.

  The largest piece of debris in the garden tore free from the ground.

  Killian’s eyes widened as he tried to twist his body away, but he was too slow.

  The boulder came down like the hand of a god.

  It slammed into him and crushed him into the ground. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, and something inside him snapped. Pain exploded through his body as bones cracked under the unbearable weight. His vision blurred, dark spots swallowing the edges as the world rang in his ears.

  For a moment—just a moment—he wondered if this was how it ended.

  The weight pressed down harder, pinning him. His arms trembled as he tried to move, but the stone did not budge. He felt more and more debris getting added on top of it. Sharp pain screamed through every nerve. He could hear Regina’s voice somewhere above him, mocking as if she were already sure of the outcome.

  He ignored it.

  One thought burned through the haze.

  If I die here… everything was for nothing.

  So, he grit his teeth and pushed.

  Lightning flared weakly around his body as he forced mana into his limbs. The boulder shuddered. Just slightly, but enough to tell him it wasn’t impossible to get out of here. His muscles screamed in protest, blood filling his mouth as he strained again.

  But then, out of nowhere, a cracking sound occured.

  The stone suddenly split.

  Jagged shards broke loose, slicing into his arms and shoulders. Before he could react, something cold and alive wrapped around him. A tendril pierced into his armor, spikes biting deep, and yanked him free of the ground.

  Killian gasped as he was hauled into the air. His grip failed, and his sword slipped from his fingers, clattering uselessly below.

  He hung there, suspended, pain flooding his body as the tendril tightened.

  Regina stepped closer, her face twisted with irritation rather than relief.

  “Even a boulder can’t kill you,” she said coldly. “Arzan really did make a monster.” She tightened her grip, lifting him higher. “I’ll leave your corpse here as a warning.”

  Killian groaned, barely able to keep his eyes open.

  Through the blur, he saw movement—Knight Roderic forcing himself forward, wounded but still trying. He took one step, then another tendril lashed out and wrapped around him as well.

  Regina laughed softly.

  “Both of you will die today here.”

  The pressure around him increased. Killian felt something give inside him. His chest burned, his vision narrowing to a thin tunnel of light. He tried to move his hands, but the tendrils were too tight, their grip absolute.

  Just then, a thunderous explosion shook the sky.

  The ground trembled. Dust and debris rained down. Regina’s head snapped upward, her attention pulled away for just a heartbeat.

  That was all Killian needed.

  He knew he wasn't getting out of the tendrils with strength. So, he used what he could, which was his mana. Every last spark of lightning stored in his heart surged outward at once. Regina turned her head just as his lightning tore through the tendrils, scorching each of them.

  The next second, the world turned white.

  ***

  A/N - You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon. Annual subscription is now on too.

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