(Tyler)

Moments after the crimson barrier formed in the sky, a storm of fiery arrows and bolts begin to down upon it, slamming into it with such intensity that it shatters, and they continue to fall. The Demon Lords don't look affected in the slightest by this power, and the larger demons seem to shrug it off, but the smaller ones?

It obliterates them. Anytime one hits, it explodes, and while that does nothing to the more powerful of the Demons, a single explosion can wipe out several of the smaller ones at once.

The hail of fiery power continues to descend upon the demons, and one of the Demon Lords raises a hand up, strange circles filled with patterns and runes forming in the air in front of it.

A massive lance of flames – more akin to a battering ram to break into a Frost Giant castle – flies into the blast that forms, splitting it in two, then slamming into the Demon Lord's scaled chest. It explodes, and the Demon Lord stumbles back a step.

Was it Kielra there, then? And he's finally decided to battle?

If so, then why are his attacks so weak? I can understand taking a few hits to wipe out the Demon Lords, but the smaller blasts could definitely wipe out more, if he's more powerful than the regular gods.

"The Old One they've been discussing?" A Frost Giant asks.

"No," the King looks towards Shira's Peak. "This power isn't Divine – it's mortal. This is a mortal summoning this power. Blizzard could, potentially, deal this much damage, with a greater Level of Mana Manipulation, and other magical Manipulation Skills. Whoever this is, their Mana Pool must be truly immense. Even Firebrand's Mana Pool, before he passed, and Blizzard's now, would only be enough for a few more of those spears and maybe another minute of the hail. This magician is truly talented, much like the Berserker Mages. To sustain multiple spells over this period of time… the Old One on the peak hasn't been idle – he's been training a mage of incomparable power."

A dozen more of those powerful Fire Lances soar into the Demon Lords. Some of the miss, wiping out hundreds of demons when they explode, others connect to their targets, dealing damage and pushing them back.

So Kielra isn't participating himself, but he did train a human to this level of power. Whoever they are, they'll handle the Demon Lords, I'm sure of it.

"Humans are coming from behind," a Frost Wolf says in Common, and the King and I look down at her. "It appears to be a huge force of the Kielvarn warriors, both magicians and soldiers."

"Likely preparing for war," the King says. "In retaliation for their prince not returning. Tell them the situation, and that their prince is here."

The wolf nods, disappearing off. We turn back to watching the battle.

Flying demons attempt to get at whoever is fighting, but they fail, Firebolts and Fire Arrows and Firebombs and Fireballs wiping them out with skilled precision. Ten minutes later, whoever that is still hasn't run out of Mana, and the Demons are no closer to killing them than they were at the start, even with the Demon Lords' powers. Three of them are currently casting a Group Spell, and something tells me that it simply won't work.

Whoever that is up there, they're not going to die. That is what every instinct within me says – they will survive the powerful magic building up.

Hope.

I couldn't feel that before. I felt hopeless.

The miasma's lighter, now. How? It's flowing out of the Demon Lords and the Demon Generals, and yet they're all still alive? Well, except for two of the Demon Generals, who just got taken out by an exploding Fire Lance that did a direct hit to one of them, but still.

"Tyler!" Father approaches me from behind, wrapping me in a hug. I look up at him. "When you didn't return, we feared the worst."

"Demons," I point ahead.

"We saw," he looks ahead. "Is this Colt's magic?"

"No," I shake my head. "He died two weeks ago, in our Advancement to the Third Tier. He sacrificed a lot of his LIF to manipulate Death-Fire in the second Stage, to kill a foe we probably would've been severely wounded against to beat, and he did that at the start. Then, in the third Stage, we had to battle a Fire Elemental, and he sacrificed the rest of his LIF to manipulate its fires, so that I could kill it. Had he not, I would be dead. Whoever this is, they were trained by a being older and more powerful than a god."

The Demon Lords finish their Group Spell, the other two having protected them long enough for it.

A massive circle of those runes from in the center of the triangle of Demon Lords during the chanting, and the moment it completed, a powerful wave of black energy burst forth. The moment that black energy appeared, I felt my power weaken.

So this must be what weakens magic and aura in the caves.

And yet, even still, the assault of magic doesn't end.

And yet, even still, I have no doubt this mage will surive.

The black energy halts before even crossing over the cliff the cave entrances are set into, a barrier of flames blocking its path.

The Demon Lords continue to channel magic into this spell, and the barrier continues to halt it. And still, the flames do not stop.

A moment before it happens, I sense it and look up.

A Fire Lance larger than any other I've ever seen drops from the sky. It descends in less than a second, slamming into the circle of runes and patterns, exploding and throwing the Demon Lords away.

The black energy fades away, and the barrier of flames vanish. The Demon Lords were badly burned in that blast, and they look furious.

Whoever this is, they can do more than simply wound the Demon Lords – they can dish them out severe burns.

And yet, their Mana does not seem to run out, their hail of fire from the sky continuing to fall without wavering for a moment.

"Who the hell is this magician?" Father asks.

"We don't know," I answer. "He was trained by a being older than the gods, though. Apparently, there's one living up on Shira's Peak. Whoever this is, their Mana Pool is immense. Even I couldn't do this."

"Your Mana has grown quite immense as well," Father says. "Around what Colt's was, yes?"

"When we were in Kielv, yeah," I nod, looking up at him.

"With how close you two were," he says. "You seem to have recovered from his death quickly, son. Your first friend – someone you were willing to defy me over and over to be with – died right in front of you. Where did you bury him?"

"He wouldn't want me to be sad," I shake my head, looking back to the battle. "He'd want me to keep having fun, and having fun is a lot more fun than being sad and moping about. It took me a few days to finally shake myself out of that, but I did.

"As for burying him," I sigh. "After using the Elemental's fire and dying, his body turned to ash. When we went into the Divine Dungeon for the Advancement, it was really, really windy. When we left, he was still ashes, and they weren't on the ground. He blew away. He's now scattered across the mountain. I'm hoping that the sheer power of his persisted, even in death, and that that's why the mountain held out so long, and that, when I go to the Deity Core, I'll be able to revive him without Colt around – that his power seeped down."

"I don't think," the King looks down at me. "That we're even needed for this battle. It would be dangerous for any of us to enter into the fight."

"No," I shake my head. "Something tells me that we can enter safely – that their magic won't touch us. Look how precise it is – you never see a single shot miss. Everything hits a demon. Whoever this is, their control is immense. Every spell is targeted perfectly. Watch the skies and the demons there – when a Fireball or Firebomb is used, it's against a flock of fliers. Firebolts and Fire Arrows are taking out individual demons, while the others are used against groups.

"The for the lances," I say. "The ones that miss the Demon Lords are either taking out Demon Generals, or groups of stronger demons. It's almost as if it's not one magician, but hundreds, and that there are just so many of them, it appears to be a single magician."

"A force of magicians that powerful would never evade notice," Father says.

"Indeed," the King says. "Which is why this is most definitely a single magician, one far more powerful than even your son is. Especially with the distance with which they're casting, for their spells to be so precise and powerful. They're firing from more than a mile away. It's probably close to two and a half miles."

Yeah. Whoever is doing this is powerful. Not just that, but insanely skilled. Their Mana Pool would have to be akin to a god's, I now realize. To be able to sustain that level of accuracy and sheer power from more than two miles away? The spells would be even more powerful while close, or not reduce at all.

I focus on the next Fire Lance to burst from Shira's peak, sensing the magic within it. It doesn't waver at all, not even in the slightest.

Either way, it takes immense Mana to do that. Something that would ordinarily cost 1 Mana would take probably 50 to 100 Mana.

To be able to use so much Mana…

I'm envious. I will, one day, be able to do that. I'll need it, to complete the challenges surrounding Tyr's Kingdom.

"We'll be safe," I say with full confidence. The miasma did a huge number to my mind, and now that it's burning away, I'm recovering. I'm surprised I don't have a resistance to it. "The magician will not strike us."

“Icy power that sleeps within, waken and shout, call and rise, and heed my call. Chill through the bone, and halt all in time. Rise, O Frozen Heart! Rising Frost!”

I channel as much power into that as I can, and feel my Mana drain.

It takes out a couple thousand demons, and the moment it does, only the fire magics already on their way hit. In fact, it seems as if it stopped as I chanted…

I've gotten so much more powerful, and whoever that magician is was able to accurately guess roughly how large of an area I'd wipe out. They were able to adjust their range and attacks in just those few moments it took me to chant that spell.

"Kill the humans and Frost Giants!" A Demon Lord yells.

Another Demon Lord creates a blast of magic and fires it at us, and dozens of barriers of ice form in front of us, though I know it isn't enough.

The giant, blazing barrier that forms in front of them, on the other hand, stops it as if it's nothing.

A Demon Lord looks to the other side of their armor, then roars. Something must be coming from that side. He fires a blast of energy, and it, too, is stopped by a barrier of fire.

"TO BATTLE!" The King yells, and the Frost Giants yell in response, then charge into the fight.

Frost Wolves charge in as well, and I look up to Father.

"Whoever that magician is," I say. "They will not strike a single ally. Like the Frost Giants, leave the magicians far enough away to avoid too much targeting, but close enough to attack and protect allies if needed."

Father nods, then returns to his troops, who shortly charge past me.

I focus on the fight, taking out any demons I can without getting too close in. I want to run in and fight, but something tells me to hold back, to stay behind and use minimal magic.

The battle rages on, and the magician on Shira's Peak does not waver in power for a moment. They're focusing their stronger attacks on the Demon Generals and the Demon Lords, leaving the rest for the Frost Giants, wolves, the Kielvarn, and whoever showed up from the other side.

After probably half an hour after troops marched in, one of the few remaining Demon Generals breaks free, and I see him charging after Father and his guards.

Wipe out the most powerful, and morale will fall.

No one seems to see it happening.

"Blood-Ice Lance," I feel the power form in my hand, then throw the spear, praying to Tyr that it's strong enough to kill it, and that I aimed ahead enough, but not too far.

The Blood-Ice Lance impales the Demon General through the back, and within moments, it turns to ice.

The demons charging with it stare in shock as Father yells a warcry to his troops, taking their focus off the Demon General.

A moment later, a Flame Lance slams into the frozen Demon General, wiping out its troops with its explosion, just barely strong enough to kill them, without endangering Father or his soldiers.

It hit where the Demon General Was, despite it not having moved for a few moments.

Whoever that magician is, they knew I'd kill it when they launched that lance, they knew where it would stop.

Colt told me that, in his world, there were stories about psychics, or people who could see the future. Is this magician one of those? How are they able to predict things so accurately? Now that I think about it, though it only takes a few seconds for their spells to move from the peak to the battlefield, they're still hitting moving targets.

They're hitting targets that weren't where they were when the spells were launched.

While doing that, they're also simultaneously blocking powerful spells from the Demon Kings, assaulting thousands of demons at once, and wiping out Demon Generals.

Just who are they? How come no one has heard of them before?

Or is this the magician who beat the Tower of Magic, and reigns at its top? Is this the Divine Human that Colt told me Tyr mentioned the existence of?

It has to be.

A Demon General leads a charge of demons – towards me. They've realized that I can kill stronger one by myself, and want to take me out. No one seems to notice that they're coming at me, and a glance to the peak says no attacks are coming.

“Icy power that sleeps within, waken and shout, call and rise, and heed my call. Chill through the bone, and halt all in time. Rise, O Frozen Heart! Rising Frost!”

The last of my Mana drains away, freezing the demons to their cores, even the Demon General freezing. He only froze on the outside, though, and breaks free moments later, continuing to charge at me.

No one's close enough to stop him.

"You're an idiot! You have Aura, don't you? You have weapons, don't you?"

Colt's voice echoes in my ears. It's not like he actually said that to me, but I can picture him saying that, if I got hurt and hadn't even thought about those.

I'm not a magician – I'm a rogue. I may have been training my magic, but I'm superior to that when it comes to mundane combat and Aura, even if my Aura Pool is much, much smaller.

The Demon General is slow, compared to me.

I run forward, jumping, leaping off of frozen demons, appearing behind the Demon General before it can realize I've moved.

I sheathe my knife with Aura as I slash at its back, then move. I move too fast for it to keep up with me. I coats itself with Aura, to protect it, but I increase my Aura usage and continue to slash, nicking its body over and over. Eventually, it weakens enough that a single slice with a sword and my full 165 STR might can manage severs its head from its body.

I land on the ground, pointing my sword and knife at the demons charging to its aid.

You're next.

I charge into combat, killing demons over and over, taking down two more Demon Generals. Every now and then, a Firebolt or Fire Arrow slams into a demon I couldn't protect against.

Whoever that is, they continue to distract the Demon Lords as they wipe out other Demons, occasionally using an even stronger Fire Lance to wound a Demon Lord more than normal. They're healing from the injuries, but I realize that, as time goes on, their healing slows down.

He's wearing them out. He's allowing them to attack us so that he can block them with his seemingly infinite pool of Mana, so that they drain themselves of Mana and Aura. I can sense it, now I'm close, the Aura they're using to protect their bodies directly from impact.

He's waiting for them to weaken, before casting a powerful Fire Lance, like the one he used to disrupt their Group Spell.

As I sever the head of a Demon General, something large and heavy lands behind me. I sensed it only moments before it did, the sheer force of it causing it hit heavily behind me. Just barely, I was able to move out of the way of the impact and shockwave, and after I do, I turn and face it.

The head of a Demon Lord. This one stood seventy feet tall, and its head is massive. I look up at the massive body hundreds of feet away, now missing its head. The battlefield has fallen silent as everyone looks as the headless torso.

I've heard that some demons can continue to fight, even without their heads.

This one just begins to fall, dropping straight down, its knees no longer working.

It hits the ground, and the four remaining Demon Lords roar, grouping together and casting multiple blasts of energy at Shira's Peak.

A barrier of flames halts the energy before it crosses over the cliff, and the Demon Lords intensify their attacks.

Why do demons use these weird circles? I can't understand this magic. It doesn't make sense to me.

That doesn't matter. They're all going to die.

I return to the battle, using my magic and Aura as they recover, though I minimize my magic use, in case I need to use Rising Frost again. I might not be able to restore that much Mana while still using it, unless the battle draws on too much longer, but since another Demon General's head somehow got severed, I don't think it will.

How did that happen?

When the third one loses its head, I was actively looking at the Demon Lord affected. It was a brief moment of magic, and I recognized it instantly.

Gravity Magic.

The Gravity Mage the Frost Giants knew – he's still alive, isn't he? He's been alive, these hundreds of years. This is him doing this.

A being that old and powerful, even if human. That explains it.

He's somehow manipulating gravity to sever their heads. He's creating a thin layer of it. Is he telling gravity that it goes in two opposite directions? That would explain why they're heads just suddenly launch upwards, as if shot from a cannon.

The battle only lasts another twenty minutes before the final two Demon Lords die, their own heads launched off their bodies, and once that happens, Fire Lances rain down from the sky, slamming into every powerful demon left and wiping out whole areas of demons that our forces haven't even gotten to.

Ten seconds. That's how quickly it takes for those thousand Fire Lances to descend. Another minute, and the hail of fire ceases, the battle field falling silent, save for the sounds of our breathing.

Everyone regroups, and Father, the King, and I meet in a tent, along with a Frost Wolf that's about as tall as I am, when she's standing. She's currently sitting, and yeah, she's big. I think she's their queen, or something, but I'm not sure.

The two Kings converse for several long moments, and I realize that they've come to an understanding. The war between our peoples is over.

When Father shakes the Frost King's hand, a message appears in my vision.

Quest Completed!

Divine Quest: Paladin of Tyr

Become a Paladin of Tyr

Requirements: Complete your Quest of Heirs

Reward: Massive Experience, Title [Paladin of Tyr]

Level already at 50, Experience deferred until Third Tier Advancement Quest completed

The Quest of Heirs… it was to end the war between our peoples.

The only way for that to happen would be for us to fight alongside each other in war, and if I hadn't come here, that wouldn't have happened.

I hope I can meet that Gravity Mage, to thank him for his aid. Had he not been around, the demons surely would have won.

"THAT WAS SO FREAKING AWESOME!" A voice squeals.

We all turn to face the entrance to the tent, where sixtiny little creatures in crimson clothes, a boy dressed in blacks, reds, and violets, and a man dressed in blacks and greys stand. The boy's Mana is more than double mine, but the mage behind him…

His Mana is at least twenty times the boy's own. I know, without a doubt, that he is the one who cast those spells at the battle. Somehow, despite his Mana Pool being nowhere near enough. It was him.

The speaker was the boy, an azure flame in his eyes, along with pure, unbridled excitement.

"The way you severed that Demon General's head?" He says. "Oh, my goodness! Granpda got the idea to launch their heads from you doing that!"

I look at the older man. He'd probably be in his thirties, maybe forty. He has platinum-blond hair and azure eyes, his pupils blacker than normal, and I realize that his pupils aren't reflecting any light at all, giving them a matte appearance at odds with the rest of his eyes.

"Magus Nathaniel," the King looks at the man with deep respect in his eyes. "Even at more than six hundred years of age, you still haven't aged a day."

"There's a Frost Giant I still know?" The Gravity Mage asks, though I keep my gaze on his grandson.

"I was but a little boy, when you were last here," the King says, though 'little' is probably relative, in this sense. "It's Bael."

"Bael!" The Gravity Mage grins. "It's good to see you again!"

"Your life is quite long," the King says. "I've not heard of a human living this long before."

"There are ways to extend one's lifespan," the Gravity Mage says. "I will probably live a couple hundred more years. I am not quite as powerful as I once was, though."

Judging by the Mana flowing within him, I doubt that really matters. Same with the boy…

"How?" I finally manage, and Colt sticks his tongue out at me.