Realms of Magic: Demon Invasion

6. Imperial Trial

"Ah. The nostalgia. This spear would suit you, young lady. Erwingian elves made it." Grandma throws a green spear, which Aelita swiftly catches.

"This axe looks fine enough for you, young man. Dwarven made." Grandma hands John a shiny, golden axe.

"What's for me?" I ask.

"This blade," Grandma answers, giving me a long, exquisite blade. I recognise it immediately.

"Angelita's blade," I mutter furiously, trembling as I hold the blade of my sister.

Anger rises through my head. Angelita, my former elder sister, left Grandma and I after a massive row: she insisted on accepting a suspicious job offer. She left, never to be seen again.

"Yes," Grandma mutters.

"She left us," I say, "why do you keep her blade?"

"Even though she left us, she's still my granddaughter," Grandma quietly says.

Grandma is always too kind.

"I have a plan," I say.

"Tell us," John and Aelita say simultaneously.

"It goes like this ...." I whisper my mad plan to them.

John and Aelita are shocked. "You might die!" Aelita whispers.

"I know," I say, "but taking risks is something we must do."

The bell rings. The second round is on.

Madam Fron makes a jump, landing right in front of us. She swings her glaive at me.

"That weapon!" Madam Fron mutters as I block her glaive with my sword. Admittedly, Angelita's sword is much better than the mass produced sword I used.

"Blood Sword!" I say, summoning another blade to match the sheer power of Madam Fron's glaive.

John and Aelita sprints toward the cup.

"Oh, no, not so fast!" Madam Fron waves her left hand, summoning a small blizzard, knocking back John and Aelita.

"Blood Shockwave!" I say, knocking back an unaware Madam Fron. John and Aelita have fallen back to my side. "Blood Mist!" I murmur, summoning red mist.

"The plan!" I shout as I unequip my armor and throw away my blade.

Aelita sighs, murmuring something around the lines of "Vio's crazy" and throws me to the air with her vine tentacle.

Madam Fron gets rid of the mist, only to be bombarded by countless vine tentacles. She creates a flame shield.

Meanwhile, I twirl and dance through the air, almost reaching the cup-

Boom!

I spit blood from my mouth, a fireball blasting me head-on. "Daring, you are. But that move was not very wise," Madam Fron scoffs as I fall to the ground.

"It wasn't," I say with the last of my strength, "but that is." I point to her back.

John has taken the cup, lifting it to the air ... and the crowd shouts and cheers. Madam Fron, aghast, turns back to me.

"Attagirl. Let's get yourself to the nearby hospital," Madam Fron says while grinning. John and Aelita help each other out.

"Not bad for a bunch of 17-year-olds, eh?" Mr Arctus asks in the hospital. The quartet–Madam Fron, Mr Anwar, Mr Arctus, Mr Charles–have met again.

"Not bad, not bad at all," Madam Fron admits. I grin slightly.

"You might die," Grandma grumbles.

"Well, sometimes risks must be taken," I reply.

"And I'm not incompetent enough as to accidentally kill her," Madam Fron says, patting my back, "you have a fine granddaughter here, Vanya."

"Huh? You know each other?" I question. My grandma's full name is Vanya Vonville, but most call her Mrs Vonville–a very formal practice.

"Kind of." My grandma leaves.

As the glory and euphoria ends, the pain starts to step in. The healers have healed most of my injuries, but the pain stays, I guess.

"What about the demon king stuff?" Madam Fron asks.

"No leads. There is only one person who has a chance to know it, Fronica," Mr Charles replies.

"But Agnes hasn't been seen since the last war," Madam Fron grumbles, "she hides really well."

The hospital room's door opens. A majestic, but weary figure comes in. He wears royal robes, adorned in silk and golden brooches. His curly hair is grey, and so is his long beard. His belly is a little bit bulgy.

"Your Majesty," Mr Anwar bows her head, "a pleasure to meet you."