Author's Note: It's been a while but I'm finally back to writing. I hope you enjoy chapter 36 of Crimson Sky. Chapter 37 is almost finished and will be posted later today.

Royal Councilor Hadwin’s army is camping out on flat grasslands on its way to Tyrin. They are guided by a wide, dirt road that cuts across the landscape. Sparse patches of vegetation can be seen in the surroundings which can be used as camouflage to set up ambushes. The grass is also tall because this land is not used for agriculture. Small groups of a dozen or less would be able to hide in them. Patrols are sent around the camps' perimeter in case of attack.

News of the defeat suffered by General Ulrich’s forces earlier during the day was suppressed to keep it from spreading. Ulrich, who commands the craftiest spies and is part of the best information-gathering network in the kingdom, knows better than anyone how important morale is for warfare. Compared to the 10000-strong size of the army, losing 150 expendable soldiers may seem trivial. Nonetheless, the repercussions will be serious if the army’s morale drops.

It is late in the night and almost everyone is sleeping soundly. This is to be expected from soldiers who are exhausted from marching on foot for hours on end. Rest is necessary to keep up their strength. However, this fact also presents an opportunity for those who have other plans.

If one could see the area from the perspective of a flying bird, they would notice shadows cutting across the wild grass. Nearly a dozen figures, most wearing light armor and a few wearing mage robes, are using wind magic to silence the rustling noises made by stepping through the waist-high grass. They move like phantoms, concealing their approach as much as possible from the enemy patrols. 7 of them are warriors trained in art of the sword and wearing armor for protection in melee combat. The other 4 are mages with remarkably strong auras. Mages cannot wear thick armor since it would impede their spellcasting, so instead they use enchanted cloaks which change color to better conceal the user.

Leading them is Henin Asher and it goes without saying that all of them are soldiers of the secret organization known as Bloodmoon which answers directly to King Hamal of Zamora. The extra members are part of a different team which came to make a report to their captain.

The group moves at a safe distance from the hostile army that is camped nearby. Treading softly through the tall grass, they hide their presence until they reach a small hill. Asher intends to cross it and continue the approach, but is interrupted by a voice from the back of the group.

“I can do it here. This is a good vantage point.”

Asher raises his hand to signal the group to stop. He then turns toward the one who spoke before.

“It’s quite far. Are you sure you can reach the camps?”

“It’s not a problem. With layered magic, it's possible to use area-of-effect spells at long range without losing their power.” Rigel explains.

Some muttering is heard from the group. Those who have not seen Rigel fight thus far and don’t expect much from him are skeptical of his claims. Layering magic is a top-tier skill which normally takes over a decade to learn. A 19 year-old like Rigel claiming to have mastered it sounds like an empty boast.

Asher doesn't dwell on it any further and simply gives the signal to attack. Rigel moves to the front of the group, taking care not to raise his head too far above the tall grass and risk being seen by a patrol. He bends down and feels the bare ground with his hands as if inspecting it. Then, satisfied by what he sees, he plants his feet firmly into the dirt and begins channeling mana.

"Aim for those supply carts and make it as loud as you can. We want to give'em a good scare" Asher adds, pointing to the barely-visible wooden vehicles near the edge of the camps.

"Will do."

Some of the soil around Rigel's feet starts to move slowly like quicksand. It rises around his ankles like it has a mind of its own, giving them impression that he is sinking into the ground.

“Harden”

A spell is cast and the soil contracts, encasing Rigel’s feet and locking them in place. At first, the others don’t understand the reason for this action. Why would a mage want to immobilize himself? Only the elite mages of the group, Gamo and Inaya, are not left scratching their heads.

When a cannon is fired, the gunpowder inside releases a burst of energy which pushes out anything inside the barrel at high speed. At the same, the body of the cannon is pushed into the opposite direction with the same amount of energy as the projectile. This is known as recoil, a principle which applies to magic as well. If a spell is fired with high velocity, the caster can be blown off his feet by the recoil. Rigel resolves this problem by essentially burying his feet into the ground. Now he can absorb the recoil without being blown back, assuming his body can endure the force.

The next part is much more difficult. Roughly 500 meters lie between him and his target. Even the best bowmen in the world can only hit a target 400 meters away. Magic, in theory, has no range limit but the power of a spell drops off dramatically the farther it travels. Elemental spells can travel the farthest while retaining their power, but even they become completely ineffective after a point. The mana cost of the spell also increases quickly with distance. It’s possible that the mage will die if he pushes himself too far. Of course, Rigel doesn’t plan to exhaust himself with a single spell. He values efficiency above all and would not have accepted this challenge if he didn’t know what he was doing.

3 layers is my limit, but it’s enough for this type of magic.

The idea is to create 3 separate layers of mana, each with a different function, in order to maximize the spell's effectiveness. Its center will unleash elemental energy to destroy the target. The middle layer will contain the explosive force of the center and ensure it reaches the target before bursting. The outer layer will protect the other two from interference which could ruin the spell. It sounds simple but is exceptionally difficult to do because of the fluid nature of mana.

Facing the enemy camps in the distance, Rigel lowers his center of gravity and uses his left arm to firmly stabilize the right arm. His inner circuits expand as they are filled with mana, which is then channelled outward for release. He begins moulding it into a formless vortex of pure energy. In order to give it shape, the mana is made to orbit around the center at high speed. While the energy within rises, an elongated glowing mass becomes visible to untrained eye. From bright orange to purple to dark blue, it changes color as each layer is added on top of the previous one. Lastly, all that’s left is to release it.

"Lance of Heracles"

A dry sound like cannon fire is heard and the spell flies away faster than any arrow, its mystical glow faintly visible in the night sky. The shockwave it leaves behind makes the other members of Bloodmoon cover their ears and sends an unpleasant rattling sensation through Rigel's body.

If one could watch the projectile closely as it flies, they would see its spinning slow down and its size grow as the outer shells unravel themselves. This is what determines the time until detonation. If the shell unravels too quickly, it busts open and causes a premature detonation. If it unravels too slowly, the spell would hit the target and fail to detonate. In either case it would be a failure. Rigel has to know the distance, the exact speed of the missile and have perfect control over his mana in order to accurately hit the target.

Piercing through the air with a sharp sound, the Lance of Heracles reaches the enemy supply carts in just over 1 second. The ground shakes as a massive pillar of red and orange flame shoots up from the ground, incinerating everything in its immediate surroundings. Tongues of fire spew out from the impact zone, setting ablaze nearby tents and equipment. The central pillar of fire is as tall as several adult men combined and burns with an unnatural intensity, as if it wants to scorch the sky. Asher and the others who are watching from far away can see the destruction clearly. It’s a truly frightening spectacle, just as the captain of Bloodmoon had asked.

“Oi oi, are you kidding me? I thought he was just bluffing to impress the captain, but this is…”

“Isn’t that the newbie who joined a couple months ago? Where does he get that much power?”

"Both of you be silent. He needs to concentrate."

Rigel ignores the commentary from behind and focuses on his task. The strength of his aura already decreased by a third, indicating that a massive quantity of mana was spent. One would assume he is exhausted after casting a spell of this magnitude. Yet, he inhales deeply a few times and, while maintaining a firm stance, his aura flares up once more.

The conditions are good. I can make the second one even stronger.

A glowing mass of energy just like the previous one manifests in front of him and begins to change color as more layers of mana are added.

“He can use it again?!” one of the soldiers finally realizes.

Rigel searches deep inside himself and creates more channels through which mana can pass. Jolts of pain warn him that he is drawing out dangerous amounts. He feels his vitality depleting rapidly as if he were bleeding. Sweat is pouring down his forehead from the strenuous effort, yet he pushes on with the confidence that he knows his limits, a confidence which can only come from harsh training.

"Lance of Heracles!"

*boom*

Rigel's entire body shakes as it struggles to endure the immense recoil. Just like before, a luminescent missile zooms through the air in a smooth arc before detonating near the edge of the camps, not far from where the last shot landed. A second pillar of fire, even larger than the first, engulfs anything unfortunate enough to be in its path. Screaming and shouting can be heard from panicked soldiers who were woken by the blast. Those near the point of impact who did not get killed instantly are roasted alive by the flames. Noise from the blast is audible from 500 meters away, guaranteeing that the whole enemy army was shaken by it.

"Well done, Rigel. You have a few minutes to rest while we wait to see the enemy's response. If there is no sign of attack, we will change locations and continue the operation. Inaya will be firing the next shot while Rigel recovers his mana. Tomek, your team will stay with us until we begin phase 3 tomorrow." Asher explains.

"Understood" a man whose face is concealed by a dark green hood replies.

Rigel nods. His breathing is rough and his muscles ache as if he just ran a marathon. The mage Gamonias walks up to him as he watch the faintly visible human figures in the distance, flailing and running to get away from the blaze of red and orange that illuminates the darkened sky.

"How do you feel? That must've drained you quite a bit."

Rigel glances at him and says "I have mana recovery potions so I should be back to full by morning."

"That's good, but I think you should tone it down in the future. You're too young to be pushing yourself so hard."

"Thanks. I'll take that as words of wisdom from someone who's been doing this a lot longer than I have. Still, it's not the first time I used this much mana at once. If it was a year ago, though, I would need a catalyst or something to draw it out. Now it feels a lot easier."

"I see..."

After a few minutes of disorganized panic, the burning areas are surrounded by groups of people carrying buckets of water. Others rush to the nearby streams to get more. They are assisted by water and earth mages in the effort to put out the fire.

"... Killing your own countrymen... Are you ok with it?" Gamo asks hesitantly after seeing the unusually blank and emotionless look on Rigel's face, as if he's wearing a mask.

"By now you probably have some idea what my past is like. To me, this war is little more than a personal grudge. It may seem petty to Bloodmoon or King Hamal who understand war from a wider perspective, but it's the truth. Amisos as a whole is tearing itself apart and will soon collapse into city-states if it hasn't already. We may be able to stop its total destruction thanks to King Hamal's intervention, but first the cancer eating it from the inside must be stopped. That cancer is the Royal Council and other nobles who started this conflict. They must be cut out like a tumor if the rest of the organism is to survive. Thinking of it that way, you could call this a necessary slaughter. Does that answer your question?"

"... Sorry, I just... I asked something very rude. My apologies."

"It's nothing, don't worry about it. Anyway, it doesn't seem like my attack did much damage in the end. They have enough mages to stop the fire from spreading."

"Our goal here is to slow them down and scare them, like the captain mentioned. It's enough if their morale takes a hit. Any time now the other teams will—"

*boom*

A new explosion, smaller than the first two, is felt through the air. The darkness of night is shoved aside by a flash of red and orange once again. This time it's the far side of the campsites which is set ablaze.

"That must be them just now. We're taking turns harassing the enemy until morning. This phase alone can sometimes convince an entire army to retreat. We don't need to win a head-on battle."

"Are we continuing this until they retreat?"

Gamo shrugs and says "Probably not. They might counter-attack before morning, but if not then they certainly will during the day. Councilor Nestor Hadwin holds a reputation for swift and aggressive action. He isn't going to retreat or negotiate while he holds the advantage. We need to be rested enough to fight by morning, so make sure to get some sleep by then. Let's go, the captain is calling."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Earlier that same day, a loud and surprisingly cheerful atmosphere fills the dining hall of Coppereye Inn. It's evening and guests are returning from their daily activities to relax and have a warm meal. A majority are Zamorian military officers and their aides. The others are merchants and travelers who are passing through the Tyrin for business.

With the extra funds received from Count Olsen Faustina, the inn's owner hired a bard to entertain the guests. He plays a small string instrument called a lyre, which is common all over Amisos and in the Athenite Empire, while reciting poems about famous old kings and great heroes of legend. The pleasant atmosphere keeps thoughts of death and bloodshed at bay.

Selene and Laila can be seen at one of the tables. Most of the awkwardness between them has melted away as they get to know each other. They talk about the day's events while waiting for the other two to arrive.

"How was Lyssa's first lesson? Did she listen properly to you?" Selene wonders.

"Yes, I could feel her determination and desire to absorb everything I say. After that, she held a meditative state for nearly four hours. It is rare to find such an earnest child. I am glad to have her as an apprentice" Nashira replies sincerely.

"Meditation is hard. I once asked Rigel teach me out of curiosity and it didn't go well. But for Lyssa it's a matter of life and death that she learn quickly. If her pain surges don't stop soon, I don't know how long she'll last..."

"Worry not, I will do my best to ensure she is healed and can live a healthy life. I believe Lyssa is very fortunate to be in your care. You did all you could to help her."

"Well, Laila and me have only been raising her for the past month. Neither of us has ever handled a child by ourselves before, so we're a bit worried if we're doing a good job. Lyssa's had a very difficult past. After we realized she lost her memories of the incident, we decided to leave it alone. It's better if it remains forgotten. I don't want her to see any more bloodshed either but with our jobs as warriors and this senseless war going on, it's hard to avoid. I don't know what to do... What do you think, Nashira? Would it make more sense to leave her with an orphanage in some peaceful area?"

"I would advise against it. Peaceful or not, such measures often lead to unstable or abusive families. Lyssa will live a longer and happier life in your care."

Selene smiles bitterly. "I'm glad you think that. We'll continue to do our best in these uncertain times."

"Optimism is the blood of life."

Watching the two women with a blank stare from the other side of the noisy dining hall is Polk. He currently works at the counter where guests order food. In his mind, he goes over the plan to steal Nashira Malik's gems which was discussed earlier with his partner-in-crime, Theola. He recalls part of the conversation they had.

"This noblewoman with the black hair, is she a mage like me?"

"Pretty sure she is. I heard she healed a bunch of people when that mining tunnel collapsed recently."

Theola frowns. "Healing magic isn't easy, so she must be around my level at least. A lot of the gems are probably magic catalysts. You said they are left unguarded, but that's just an illusion. The lockbox and even the gems themselves are guaranteed to have safeguards in place. Tracking magic, alarms, elemental— maybe even dark magic. If there's as many as you say, a bunch of them have defensive enchantments to protect from theft."

"Tracking? You mean we can be found even if we escape? Maybe we should rethink this then."

"No, it's fine. Even if we don't know exactly what to expect, there's a simple countermeasure."

She takes out a small vial containing a white, thin powder and gives it to Polk.

"Is this poison?" he wonders.

"I'm not that cruel, you know. It's just sleeping powder. Find a chance to slip it into her food or drink this evening. It'll put her out for a day or two, giving us ample time to get the gems and escape. Tracking magic has a limited area-of-effect. Once we get far enough, the safeguards won't mean a thing . Polk, I'm counting on you for this."

He squeezes the vial in his hand. "I'll get it done."

While Polk considers how to accomplish this task without being seen, one of his male coworkers returns from serving guests in the dining hall. He notices that Polk is staring blankly at the two women and nudges him with an elbow.

"What?"

"Those two are amazing, aren't they? Especially the black-haired one with the blue eyes. I've never seen anyone that beautiful in my life. Even the town's noble ladies don't come close."

"Hm~ yea, they sure are" Polk replies absent-mindedly, his thoughts still dwindling on the planned heist.

"You're lucky to be working the counter. You get to ogle them as much as you want."

"We can switch places if you want."

"Why? So you can get up close to them? Maybe get a chance to touch? No way! That's my perk."

Polk simply shrugs without saying anything. The coworker scoffs at this reaction. "Hmph, look at you, acting like you don't care." He leans in closer and whispers in Polk's ear. "Just so you know, the red-haired one with the sword is mine so don't try to get close to her, alright?"

"Whatever you say, friend."

I won't see any of you again after tonight either way.

Some time passes and the young Lyssa and her second guardian Laila arrive at the dining hall. They take a seat around the table with Selene and Nashira. After a brief chat, Selene gets up and walks over to Polk at the counter.

"Excuse me, I'd like to order dinner for four people."

"Is it three adults and a child, miss?" he responds as calmly as he possible, trying not to raise suspicion.

"That's correct" and then she details what each person wants from the inn's evening menu.

"Very good, miss. It will not be long. Please let me or my coworkers know if you need anything else."

This is my chance.