Realms of Magic: Demon Invasion

5. Training Regime

The cycle repeats itself. We have trained for four months; just two months left. In that time, our powers have skyrocketed.

Madam Fron grins more hugely this morning (which usually means she would whoop our asses extra hard). "I was told that today we would receive a few special guests."

"Special guests?" I ask.

"Yeah, some nobles," Madam Fron answers.

"And there they are!" she ecstatically says.

Five figures, riding horses, appear on the fields. They are King Arthur and his daughter Princess Seira, along with three Imperial Guards.

"Err ... I thought you said nobles?" I ask.

"What? They are nobles, too!" Madam Fron replies.

"Your Majesty," Madam Fron bows her head. "It has been quite a while."

"Likewise," King Arthur replies with his soft, yet majestic voice.

"Father," Princess Seira whispers, "I don't think this is necessary." The King pays no attention to her.

"In this dangerous situation, I wish for my daughter to have skills to protect herself. I have heard that you are training several disciples as future Guards, so I think my daughter might train alongside them." The King says.

"My pleasure," Madam Fron says. "I think it is best for Princess Seira to battle Violleta here, so that I can see her battle style."

"I see. Well, Seira, go on," the King says. He and the Guards sit on a bench.

"What's your preferred weapon?" Madam Fron asks.

"A glaive or sometimes a bow," Princess Seira grumbles. Madam Fron frowns slightly.

"Your element?" Madam Fron asks again.

"Fire." Princess Seira answers shortly.

"Oh, this will suit you well!" Madam Fron mutters. Fire forms around her, nearly burning Princess Seira's silver hair. The fire materializes into a glaive, which is handed to Princess Seira.

"Don't go too hard on her," Madam Fron whispers, "Even I'll have some trouble explaining things if the King's only daughter dies."

"Yeah, I can see why," I whisper.

"Begin!" Madam Fron shouts.

Princess Seira moves quickly. Her glaive burns, her red rings bursting fire. "Flame Breath!" Fire explodes from her mouth.

"Blood Shield!" Trying to overwhelm me early in the fight, huh?

"She uses damn power rings?" Madam Fron-who for some reason stands behind me-questions herself, her head tilting in disapproval. "Wait until someone chops off her hand. Then she'll know why nobody uses those rings in duels anymore."

"Fireball Cannon!" Princess Seira fires a large fireball at me. I jump forward quickly, dodging it. It almost hits Madam Fron instead, but I am naive if I think she can't block it.

Oh, yeah, she doesn't even block it. The flames just go off by their own.

Princess Seira's fire is like an uncontrollable bomb, unlike Madam Fron's controlled bursts. It burns through anything and everything.

Except me, her target. Soon the fire begins to dissipate. "Blood Mist!" I mutter.

Red mist begins enveloping the area. Princess Seira grips her glaive tightly.

I summon a wraith. "Ambush her from behind," I mutter my order in a low voice.

Princess Seira grits her teeth. My wraith appears from behind, the thick red mist still present.

"There you are!" Princess Seira hisses, swinging her glaive and killing my wraith.

"Not exactly," I say. I swing my blade, cutting Princess Seira's hands.

"Arrgghh!" Princess Seira starts moaning and gasping in pain while staring at her bloody arms. Blood reddens the grass below, her severed hands falling to the ground. It would've turned my face pale if not for Madam Fron routinely sparring with us (lots of blood are spilled there).

My mist is dispelled immediately by Mr Anwar. His black eyes turn to green, as he begins healing Princess Seira. "Tiryag: Regeneration!" he exclaims.

It isn't long before Princess Seira's chopped hands stop bleeding. She is brought to hospital immediately.

Wow, that's some really advanced healing magic!

King Arthur shakes hand with Madam Fron and Mr Anwar. "I'm glad to have you on my side, Fronica," King Arthur says before leaving hurriedly.

"My pleasure," Madam Fron replies. Then she turns her attention unto us.

Madam Fron mutters, "She's weak. Look at her movements."

"Can't agree more," Mr Anwar affirms, "she's not fit for the battlefield."

"She is in charge of the Imperial Guard, isn't she?" Aelita asks.

"Yeah," Madam Fron responds, "and they're weak because of that."

"That's why I hope you can pass the Imperial Guard graduation exam."