Kruger fondly remembered his times in the Royal-mages’ REC room.

It was a fun time.

…

Kruger slumped down the sofa and whistled. He brought his leg on the table, annoying the entire unit sitting there.

“Remove your leg, Number 2,” a female mage spoke. Her face twitched in annoyance.

“Have a problem, Sandra,” Kruger snickered. “Fed up that your attempt to seduce Captain Perfect fail again?”

“S-Shut up,” she stammered. “I am getting there. Captain Wayward smiled when he received my chocolate!”

Another female mage crooned.

“How adorable, Sandra? Want me to give you a few homes-making tricks? Don’t you know a quality man often prefer a traditional wife?”

A man beside her chuckled at Sandra’s distress. Kruger gritted his teeth in a fit of jealousy. Wayward was already bad enough. Now this? What the hell with the royal mages and fucking raijus. Who the heck would believe this idiot had beaten Wayward to the sweetest girl in the division?

A book fell on Kruger’s face.

“Kruger, take your feet of the table,” Sol sternly said. “You are not a hooligan, Vice-commander.”

“Oh, force me,” Kruger’s short fuse burned. “Come on, shorty.”

Clank!

A youthful royal-mages loudly put a tray on a table and slid teacups toward both men.

“Third-wave, Vice-Captain,” Joshua sternly smiled. “Please take a coffee and clam down.”

They complied, Joshua’s coffees were excellent.

“Lucky you, Sol,” Kruger sipped his coffee. Joshua would make a killing once he retired and opened a coffee-house. Better enjoy before it cost money.

“Thanks, Joshua,” Sol grinned at Joshua. His eyes glinting with glee. “These are fantastic coffee.”

“Oh, everyone is already here,” the youngest recruit and the teacher’s pet — Alexander walked into the recreation room alongside their leader. “Wait. Vice-Captain arrive early. That must be a first.”

“Shut up, Alexander,” Kruger said. “Hey, Wayward, how is the current patrol? Need any help.”

“Roiche request back,” Samael Wayward informed the room. “I will go personally. Alexander, want to experience your first field-mission?”

“Yes, Captain,” Alexander beamed happily.

“Good,” then Wayward noticed a sulking Sandra.

“I can also use another hand,” Wayward floated. “How about you, Sandra?”

“Yes sir,” Sandra leaped up energetically.

“Good,” Wayward picked up the cup of coffee on the tray and savored it. “Excellent coffee as always, Joshua. And Kruger, avoid blowing up the headquarter before I get back.”

“No problem, Ice Cube,” Kruger frowned, but inside he was smiling at that mundane day.

…

Kruger, by raw rage, left himself from the crater.

“Hey, Ice Cube,” He glared at Wayward. “Guess you fucker ordered me not to blow up the HQ, because you want to do it first — perfect my ass.”

“Here comes the trash-talk,” Wayward complained at the black, gloomy sky.

Kruger’s eyes hardened.

“For a man who butchered his student, two fucking lovebirds, my favorite coffee boys and the dolt with the worst taste in men since the dawn of humanity, your robe is darn clean,” Kruger’s hand shone with Mana and light. “Not one speck of blood. Not a red drop on that darn blue-robe. You must laugh at how stupid they are, idolising your fucking heel — dumb enough to think we are all friends for last six-damn-years!”

Wayward squinted and slipped off his robe to reveal a grey waistcoat bounding his muscled, toned body.

“Trust me, Kruger,” Wayward looked at his opponent dead-on. “I’m not enjoying this, but professionalism come first.”

“PROFESSIONALISM MY ASS, YOU TRAITOR!”

Kruger unleashed a beamed of devastating light — an advanced anti-unit spell of Grand Empire — on Wayward.

[Wayward’s Original: Blue Flicker]

Wayward vanished in a burst of blue flames and reappeared in front of Kruger as a flaming blue visage. He thrust out a punch.

[Wayward’s Original: Blue Spear]

The burst of flames pierced clean through several building complex, reducing them into rows of collapsing bricks.

“Arrgh!” Kruger screamed, falling, clutching the charred stump where his right-limbs used to be. He flopped on the ground in mangled scent of birth flesh and an agonizing howl.

Wayward prepared a finishing blow.

“Oh, come on!” said a familiar voice. “You already kill two-hundred. At least let me have Kruger!”

Kruger trembled. It couldn’t be happening, but it made sense. If there was one traitor, two were solid possibilities.

“What the meaning of this, Sol,” Kruger yelled at the black-hair man in a familiar glass. Except this time the mind manner man wore an insidious smile on his face.

“It means exactly what you think,” Sol sighed. “Me and Wayward, we are Willow Heart Street’s boys from day one. Don’t you realize that Wayward are way more open with me compared to the rest of you. Geez, you are pitiful. But now the charade is over. Let me scratch one itch: these years are fucking chores”

Sol turned to Wayward.

“Seriously, Wayward, will it kill you to leave some of those buffoons for me to vent,” Sol ranted. “Do you know how annoying it is to act like an assuming background character for six-years straight. Hell, I am half-afraid my act is up when I forgot to act all tragic when Roiche got ashed. Thankfully, you morons are dumb from the beginning to the end. To think Capitan ruin the fantasy, I spent six years dreaming. I want to hear them screaming for days, not minutes, Wayward! We don’t have even an intact corpse to show my dear uncle.”

“Uncle?” Kruger muttered. “You have an uncle?”

“Oh, you never realize it at all?” Sol laughed. “What do you think I am? A fantasy stranger who only life purpose is your to be your friend? Did you ever wonder where is my family in this six-years, morons?”

“His uncle is Emperor Solemek Grandy?” Wayward cut Sol’s momentum

Kruger’s eyes widened.

“That right,” Sol laughed. “I am a part of the Grand Empire’s royal family and the cousin of the cute little brat you are so fond of. I should be your boss, Kruger. But my dear uncle got the throne and chased his little brother’s family away, claiming we are unstable.”

“You are a maniac,” Wayward said.

“And you are a spoilsport,” Sol groaned. “I pity you, Kruger. A low-born with no useful talent. Working with an ignorant mass under a thumb under a traitor you can’t surpass. It is so pathetic.”

Sol continued.

“I plan to rape Sandra in front of that Ice cube over there. Quadruple amputated Alexander. And force the love-bird to kill each. Then make you into my pet, but a spoilsport wiped away 315 lines on my bucket list. Thanks, Wayward! Luckily, I still got you.”

Sol’s finger lighted with glowing energy.

“First, I need to have my pet castrate. Can’t let it have a mutt…”

[Wayward’s Original: Blue Sword]

A flash of blue sailed past Sol and divided the concrete bridge behind him in half.

“He is mine, Grandy,” Wayward coldly spoke, wiping his flaming sleeves. “Or should we settle our difference the old-fashion way?”

“Fine!” Sol sneered. “But at least let me show this to Kruger!”

Sol clicked his finger. 

Boom!

The entire Fire-quarter — housing military complexes, personal equipment, and weapon in the capital — went ablaze in thunderous bombings. The shock-wave force sent splinters of wood in the night-sky. Plume of smoke and fire burst to life, painting the night sky red and signaling the end to any hope of counter-attack. Cries for help echoed across the area to the horror of Kruger and Wayward’s indescribable expression as cinders rained on the false friendship.

Sol laughed as a building around them crumble.

“God dang it,” Sol said. “Worth the effort planting all those bombs behind you back. I always wanted to blow up uncle’s favorite quarter as a kid. Hey, Kruger, why don’t you thank me. I am sending an entire military body of Grand Empire into a coffin with you. Am I your best mate, now?”

Kruger watched his home fell. The Infirmary tower collapsed on itself. Smoke rose from the direction of the armory. Kruger’s eyes barely blinked as the royal-mages’ HQ broke into a fire and brick. His ears heard the royal-knight’s barrack crumbled.

“Bastard!” Kruger ignored the amputated arm and shattered ribs in a jump to rip Sol to pieces.

He never got there. Wayward’s fist landed in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

“I will count to three,” Wayward warned. “One.”

“Fine! Ciao, Wayward!” Sol taunted and vanished in a flash of purple. “And Kruger, you suck at your job.”

…

Kruger spat a mouthful of blood.

“Is that the reason you kill them?” Kruger asked his former-Captain. “You don’t want that maniac to do it.”

Wayward’s hand lit on fire.

“It is like I said to Alexander,” Wayward sighed. “Something is better off a mystery.”

“Yeah, I totally agree with that.”

Orange plume of fire barreled between the two men, splitting them before Wayward could lay the finishing blow.

Kruger watched a red-hair demoness with lustrous black-horn landed in front of him. The girl was beautiful. Kruger knew for sure that Sandra will probably ask her for a beauty tip if she was here — just thinking about that made him bitter. Transparent outline of scales flickered on her skin. Kruger shivered. She gave a feeling of a dragon—a juvenile dragon, but dragon was still the king of terror no matter its age.

“Get away from here,” the girl glanced at him worriedly. Her eyes glowed with a tinge of amber. “I will handle him.”

“Don’t! He is too strong for you!”

“Oh, trust me, I am used to fighting A-class,” Melody cracked her knuckle at the Wayward who slowly emerged from the fire. “Get away from here! You are in no position to fight.”

Kruger wanted to disagree, but his sense of self-preservation won out. The Vice-Captain of the decimated royal-mages hope that somehow this mysterious girl would have a chance. Maybe Venistalis could recover from tonight.

…

For the sake of honesty, boiling down to a simplest term, avoiding every softball — the truth was simple.

Kruger was dead wrong.

Melody smashed into a mountain of bricks that, once upon the time, was the Infirmary’s cafeteria, and tumbled down a stone-stair littered with broken wood and stone. She bled and hobbled. Bruises patterned her face. The amber tinged in her eyes was unfocused. The once shining crimson hair now matted with sweat and soot. Melody Solarmaria was on her last leg.

All it took was 1 minute and 43 seconds with Wayward.

“You are good,” Wayward walked down the stone-step calmly. “But not enough.”

Melody breathed fire. Wayward causally trapped the column of flames with a runic circle.

“You breathed genuine dragon fire?” Wayward studied the ball of fire suspended in front of him. “Impressive, you have some unique ability. What a shame. If thing go differently, I might recommend you as my successor in the royal-mages.”

Melody rushed in for punch with all her strength. She twisted out of Wayward’s attempt to throw her with [Heavenly Eyes]. But even her Inherent Skill was not enough, Wayward easily nullified the opening her natural superiority provided with a waiting back-fist in the face.

“Mana and movement reading,” Wayward theorized. “Given your race, it must be [Heavenly Eyes]. Who would have thought I will meet a royalty here, Princess of Demonic Continent?”

Wayward chuckled.

“Shut the hell up,” Melody raised her guard. “You keep talking about the royal-mages like you care about them!”

Wayward’s expression softened.

“I care about them.”

“Really? Never would have from the way you took your Vice-Captain’s arm”

Wayward chuckled.

“What is so funny?”

“Nothing. I know three Princesses in my life, including you,” Wayward reminiscent. “The stupidly naïve Velnia, the kindest flower of this Empire, and you—someone who cares about the foot-soldiers. Why does Princesses must be so extreme? You should take life more easily.”

Melody blinked.

“Why is someone like you doing this?”

“Professionalism,” Wayward explained. “While I have personal reason to destroy this empire, this is nothing personal. My contract outweigh my friendship, that is all?”

Melody snorted.

“I know about the real deadline. For someone who spoke so highly of the princess, you have no problem about flattening her.”

Wayward raised his eyebrows.

“So, you are part of the reason while the ritual started early,” Wayward quickly deduced the rest. “I see. Someone cornered Mehest to the point he ran for the back-up plan. How regrettable, if you are not here, it will be far kinder.”

“Kinder?” Melody waved her arm to the fire and carnage. “How is this kind?”

“They would die in a blink of an eye,” Wayward said. “I originally plan to use a slow-acting poison on the royal-mages. Let them die peacefully in their sleep, believing their Captain is not a traitor and they never fail their duty.”

Wayward looked mentally exhausted.

“But it seems fate is never kind,” Wayward stated. “Because of you, they needlessly suffered.”

Melody gritted her teeth and launched a flying kick at Wayward.

“Too temperamental,” Wayward grabbed Melody’s foot out of the air and threw her to the ground. “You have a high-level [Martial Art], but that is only a part of the puzzle, Princess. Fighting power centers on many factors — raw [Martial Art] and Stat only get you so far — tactic, timing and supplement also play a part in combat.”

Melody struggled up but Wayward punted her flying into a statue commemorating the 31st Emperor of the Grand Empire. She crashed through a solid bronze statue, breaking it in half and rolling across the pavement.

Melody got up and stumbled. Everything looked so blurry. 

Then she saw a punch closing in too fast.

Wayward sent Melody hurtling into a wall separating the Fire from Earth-quarter, cracking the brick so hard the reinforced wall caved. Melody staggered up as Wayward materialized in a column of bonfire.

She punched with all her strength, but Wayward halted her by the wrist.

“Commendable effort,” Wayward wrestled her arm away and pried her guard wide. “But you are beaten, too exhausted to use [Heavenly Eye], and outclassed in every stat category.”

With her body exposed, Wayward went to town. A sucker punch fell, followed by three rapid combo of swings in her face, an uppercut and a push-kick send her bouncing into the wall. Melody slammed into the brick and slipped to the floor.

Brutally and painfully, she got up again. The girl was bleeding, tattered, bruised and broken by the beating deliver by a much superior warrior but she didn’t give up. She didn’t even have a strength left to speak—but with her back against the wall—she refused to roll over and die.

Wayward admired that.

“Geez, with that kind of tenacity, I can swear you are related to a dragon,” Wayward put up a stance. “Out of admiration, I will teach you something. Skills quality alone does not underlie power. It is the art of meshing them together that grant you genuine invincibility. If you survive today, you better remember this move.”

[Wayward Original’s Blue Spear]

It was a punch made of many jigsaw pieces. A fire-base cultivation technique formed the combustion fuel. [Elastic Body (A)] granted toughness and agility. [Runic Mastery (B)] allowed utilization of magical rune to compress, sped up, spun and amplified the blue flames as propellers and armors. [Breathing Meditation (A)] granted focus and extra power to an attack. [Martial Art (A)] ensured its accuracy. [Hot Iron Strike (A)] ensured Wayward’s arm could take the immense recoil and that his attack burned even hotter.

Blue Spear was Wayward’s brainchild—a punch hit faster than a ballistic missile and burnt hotter than torches. Melody was lucky Wayward mercifully telegraph the punch for her to pour her entire stamina into [Dragon Manifestation] and block it with both her for arms.

Not that it mattered.

The force of the punched shattered the section of the wall dividing the two quarters, blasting Melody through five building, skidding across the ground in a plume of dust and fire for 1.68 kilometers. Her body smashed into what was once a post-office, caving the building from the impact.

Melody Solarmaria was in critical condition. Her arms remained intact, but her bones got powdered from that attack, not to mention multiple organ's damage and internal bleeding. She would need several years of recovery, but she won’t have that anymore.

Wayward reappeared in a burst of flame, covering a kilometer of distance in less than a minute. He walked toward the grievously injured Melody to finish the job.

“Sorry but that cow is my friend.”

Wayward glanced at the sky with contempt.

“People these days keep asking for a fight above their paygrade,” Wayward turned to face an elf sporting a gold highlight. “Do you want me to go easy?”

Luxinna Latoria gritted her teeth for the fight of her life.

“Do your worse.”