Dawn was yet to approach when the maeruthan's finally overwhelmed the enemies. The garden was filled with the scent of scorched earth and iron, unpleasant to the nose. The massive pillars of smoke continue to rise in the sky only to be obstructed by the dim barrier, if the barrier couldn't be broken any time sooner, all would suffocate under poisonous air.

The assassins were extremely unrelenting as they continued to drive forward, paying no mind of their weakening forces. Their claws continue to slash and it was difficult to subdue them. Moulin coughed as he felt a terrible itch within his throat.

Hadrian quickly noticed the little sound. He observed the surrounding air, catching the grey mist of ash floating around them. Raising his wrist, his communicator glowed.

|| My lord! || Varick's voice was filled with slight anxiousness.

"Speak"

|| The final pillar cannot be quenched with young master Fraunces' ability. A swarm of Veialeans has gathered around it, we have no way through it! ||

"They intend to die here with us" A frown etched his face as he stared coldly at the number of Veialeans below them and when he lifted his gaze, it stopped on a single tiny vertical line a few miles away from him. He was left with the decision of using his ability to bringing down the pillar, but could it be possible to put out the lantern?

|| Orders, Sir ||

Hadrian narrowed his gaze and unexpectedly met a pair of silver eyes staring intently at him. Moulin had overheard his conversation with Varick, the youth's brows were furrowed filled with worry.

Maxille should be in a dire situation.

Silver eyes dimmed and moistened in worry. What should he do? He refuses to be a burden right now, useless, and burdensome. His eyes turned resolute as he looked over the small line far away from the pavilion, the very last pillar standing was right before his eyes. It was quite far and he certainly could not be there on time.

"Do you have anything in mind?" Hadrian had already told Varick to wait for his orders and shut off the link. His keen eyes caught sight of Moulin's determined gaze and deep thoughtful silence.

"..." Moulin didn't know if it would work but he had to try. He couldn't risk moving too much because of his bleeding wound. An idea had already emerged in his mind, here were many flaws but it was better than nothing.

His eyes turned to Hadrian and he spoke "I don't know if it works but I guess we are running out of solutions...". Screw hiding his ability! if his brothers die here then everything he worked for was all for nothing. He was willing to face the consequences of his actions later, right now, he is going to finish this situation without regrets.

"Lift me up"

Hadrian complied, his hands carefully lifting Moulin on his feet, warmth radiating into Moulin's skin. Moulin ignored him completely as he stood up, bringing out his clean hand into the air, the other clutching into his wound.

The air around them abruptly shifted, a strange comfortable chill enveloped them. The activation of unknown mana with unusual content and enchanting heavenly ambiance suddenly stirred every Maeruthan present under the pavilion.

Beneath Moulin's hand glowed and a long magnificent bow materialized from thin air. The same weapon Moulin had summoned before was clutched inside Moulin's grasp.

Something triggered in Hadrian's eyes as he watched the boy before him. A blend of surprise and interest swirled within them, golden irises watched full of mysticism.

Moulin coughed twice, his hand clutching the bow. The air entering him seemed rougher and prickly. He positioned the bow before him and removed his bloodied hand from his waist. A chilled breath escaped his mouth as his neat hand grasped the grip, a snug fit within his palm, his other bloodied hand pinched the bowstring between his fingers. Calm thoughts... Calm thoughts... Calm thoughts...

He chanted in his mind.

Pulling the string with great strength, the bow glowed a soft light and an ice arrow emerged, resting on the arrow rest. He aimed the arrowhead towards the vertical speck miles away. It was extremely far... could he even make it? Nevertheless, there wasn't much time left. Sight amplified, breath steady, he ignored the pain before releasing the arrow into the air.

The speed was so fast a sudden freezing gust of air almost threw Moulin back, the arrow traveled swiftly leaving a trailed of tiny crystals in the air. The speed did not lessen one bit as it flew sharply accelerating even more, glowing when it reached maximum speed, powerfully enlarging! It flew over lawns of grass and past scorched trees. As fast as lightning it approached the area of the last pillar gaining even more speed.

Maxille paused his offensive movements as he felt a sudden fluctuation in the air. He unconsciously looked over his head and watched as a giant arrow of white ice completely pierced through the massive stone pillar, the stone crumbled before his eyes.

However, the arrow missed the lantern at the center. He turned sullen and he could not help but grit his teeth as he watched the delighted eyes of the assassins before him. Just when he was about to lose hope, a freezing breeze engulfed the entire area. The arrow, completely impaling the pillar, released a thick sheet of white ice gradually swallowing the pillar until it's base.

The lantern, flickering with light, was devoured by the ice spreading at a terrifying rate. Glass shattered and the pillar crumbled into fine snow. Snow floated in the air as the iced pillar broke into pieces falling into the ground with a loud bang.

Silence completely stilled the freezing air around them as the black barrier faded out in the sky, revealing the gentle light of dawn. The smoke was released and the air was once more breathable, a refreshing breeze delightfully entered one's nose. Cheers broke the silence.

The presence of the morning light gave hope to the fighting maeruthans and they all charged with all their might. Abilities striking and swords clashed with claws.

And before every soul knew, the first rays of the morning sun bathed all over the garden and the battled was long over as forces from the sentinel guilds entered, blocked, and surrounded the garden.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Moulin!"

Emlen called out with a loud voice, his throat unusually dry. His forehead was dripping sweat as he ran past the crowd of people.

The ground was bloody as trails of blood were left when corpses where collected, dragged, and piled by sentinels. The pavement remained red while it was swept from the meat and scattered flesh, a horrible stench immediately enshrouded the whole area.

Mouths wailed and cried from the loss of the lives significant to them, some had the heart to snicker heartlessly while others were in a pitiful trance as they flinched at the sight of the blood beneath their feet and the crimson stains of their garments. Numerous sentinels came to escort clinging nobles, moaning out their grievances.

Amid the expanding crowd around the pavilion, a loud thump of boots landing on the ground attracted attention. What certainly caught their eye was the beautiful flowing hair of white, purely waving with the wind as it fell on curved shoulders.

"Moulin!" Emlen finally caught sight of his youngest brother, he rushed through the people gradually crowding densely around where his brother should be. A foreboding feeling clenched tightly in his heart as he made his way through.

But when he finally stood in front of his brother he froze in his place. He was speechless...

Moulin had lowered his head as Hadrian supported his back as he stood. What met his brother's eyes was the glamorous longbow made purely of dazzling white ice. His slender fingers were covered in a sheet of ice and small chilling smokes rose from the small frozen hand holding the grip of the bow. It was evidence of how severe the cold was. Moulin's fingers couldn't stop shaking, the spreading ice was biting into his flesh, painfully climbing up his arm. Moulin continuously winced as he refrained from moving his arm, stuck to the bow.

"That's... a sacred weapon"

"Impossible! I thought he was born without mana and abilities"

"It's really a sacred weapon..."

"How is that possible?"

"He was actually a Maeruthan all along..."

Moulin raised his eyebrows as he ignored the murmurs around him, unconsciously delving deeper into Hadrian's arms. Sensing Moulin's emotion, Hadrian stood upright, his golden irises piercing through the soul of every person present.

Almost immediately, the crowd was silenced, even stepping back fearfully. Any person would recognize the only family bearing golden eyes the same as the man before them. As if a dragon of gold, blazing golden flames within his throat, came to haunt and feast on them, and them, welcoming it peacefully. These were always their first thoughts for the Lord of the Hercullio, the man stained with invisible blood. Such man could only be feared and adored from afar if one wished to keep their own life. If Moulin was sheltered by the Archnoble then they could not touch nor ever ridicule him again.

"M-Moulin..." Emlen returned to himself as he courageously moved closer to his youngest brother, ignoring the man whose arms his brother has sheltered himself in. "You're hurt..."

His voice was doused with pain as if he was the one wounded and injured. He hurriedly called upon a healer when he saw Moulin's bleeding wound. Moulin welcomed his brother's arms, seemingly aware of the difference between the warmth of Hadrian's embrace and Emlen's. He glanced at Hadrian, who accepted Emlen's earnest gratitude.

"Do you wish to say something to me?" Hadrian perceived the silver eyes staring intently at him.

"..."

Moulin lowered his gaze, silent for a moment. "Thank...you... " His voice was so soft it sounded almost like a whisper.

"How charming..." Although he wanted to tease this little sweet until he became dazedly flushed, the moment wasn't appropriate for the youth's skin was scraped open, blood unceasingly dripping from the pale slender fingers. It was a trivial wound for the Lord but for Moulin, it seems to be bringing more than just pain to the youth.

He did not want to see the painful expression Moulin had openly expressed, strangely it felt suffocating.

"I would like it if you would thank me again after you are healed..."

Moulin almost could not understand Hadrian's intentions, his eyes blinked repeatedly before he nodded to Hadrian's reply. A slight smile gracing his lips.

"Careful..." said the healer as she led Moulin to sit on the pavilion steps. Her white-robed uniform and yellow cloak embroidered a guild crest very foreign to Moulin, but he didn't care about which. What mattered the most was the numbing pain of his wound and his frozen hand.

"Hold still" The healer instructed placing her palms above Moulin's wounds, glowing bright.

Moulin winced as he felt his skin moved to mend itself and then a comfortable stream of mana embraced him.

"Was this the first time you used your sacred weapon?" The healer asked. Emlen scrutinized the exquisite bow refusing to let go of his brother's hand, entirely freezing the tender hand.

Moulin felt too comfortable to even give a lie. "I've summoned it twice but it is the first time I have used it".

"That explains your frozen arm" The healer nodded. "You accumulated too much mana into your weapon. Causing it to reversely and violently struck its owner. Try to withdraw your weapon and retract the mana of the ice around your hand. I cannot touch your hand for it seems to spread unto anything that touches it. Your ability is... quite special". The healer could not help but admire his unique ice ability.

Heeding the woman's instruction, he slowly draws in the mana into his skin as carefully as he can. Turns out it was his recklessness that caused his misfortune.

The sheet of ice thawed and dissolved into his skin, the sacred weapon within his grasp flashed as soft light before it completely disappeared. Moulin exhaled as he watched the color of his skin turn from deathly purple into lively pink. Blood rushed vigorously, warming his arm at a fast rate.

The corner of his lips twitched as he thought of how only the coldness of his ability could affect him greatly, he once thought he was invincible with the cold yet the previous events entirely proved him wrong.

Out of the blue, noises of small gasps and murmurs noised around as people backed away to create a large pathway. It caught Moulin's attention as well as Emlen's and the healer's.

A large white beast leisurely walked through the parted crowd like an imposing king parading his jewels. Emlen warily stepped forward while the healer flinched as the shadow of the beast unhurriedly covered her whole frame.

The moment Snow saw his master, he completely ignored every single person and his eyes worriedly fixed on Moulin. His master looked paler and the exhaustion in his eyes seemed like he would faint in the next second.

Moulin smiled. He could easily perceive the meaning within Snow's watery eyes. He reached out his hand and caressed the fur on the fox's head with gentle strokes. "I'm alright. A big guy like you shouldn't even try to cry. Honestly, it doesn't even look a bit adorable". He chuckled as he traced the golden marks on Snow's forehead.

Suddenly, Snow's body glowed brightly in a split second. A small ball of snow-white fur hopped on Moulin's lap, flashing its pitiful moistened eyes. It nuzzled its nose in Moulin's palm, seeking his master's warmth.

"Much better..." A doting smile enriched Moulin's lush lips, hands carefully stroking the little fox's fur.

The onlookers were dumbfounded by the scene before them. Like a bomb had suddenly exploded right in front of their faces. They gawked at the young man who had not just revealed himself to be a Maeruthan who possessed uniquely powerful ice ability but had also owned one of the rarest Mystical beasts in all of Corhan!

Emlen, the second young master of the Fraunces family and Moulin's second brother, could not immediately process everything in one go and was left staring dazedly at his brother.