Chapter 364 - "Fight with the Divine Guards!"

For a heartbeat—

Everything froze.

The plaza, already stretched to its limits, seemed to forget how to breathe.

Thousands of eyes were locked onto the blond-haired man standing atop the radiant Pegasus, golden sword in hand, light still clinging to his silhouette like an afterimage. His presence was different from the Kunpeng’s overwhelming vastness—this was sharp, focused, heroic in a way that felt almost... textbook.

A protagonist stepping onto the stage.

Aiden’s bright golden eyes swept across the execution square—over the Divine Guards, the clergy, the shattered stone, the chained Saintess, and finally Luca.

Luca met his gaze.

For a brief second, Luca genuinely paused.

...He has become stronger.

The thought came unbidden.

Not just cleaner mana. Not just denser presence. There was something else layered around Aiden now—an intangible pull, like the world itself leaned just a little in his favor.

What’s with that main-character energy...?

A breath escaped Luca in a quiet huff of amusement, and he shook his head slightly.

Then he smiled.

"No," Luca said clearly, his voice cutting through the tension as he stepped forward, sabers resting loosely at his sides.

"You’re just in time."

Aiden’s lips curved faintly in response.

He stepped down from the Pegasus in a single smooth motion, landing lightly on the cracked stone of the plaza. Without ceremony, he lifted his hand and the radiant beast dissolved into golden particles, drawn back into beast space as if it had never been there.

The moment broke.

Reality rushed back in.

Shouts erupted from the crowd again. Orders rang out. Armor clanked.

The Divine Guards moved.

Their hesitation vanished as training took over, boots striking stone in disciplined unison as they spread out, tightening the encirclement around Luca and the others.

Weapons leveled.

Mana flared.

Kyle rolled his shoulders, spear spinning once in his hand as he glanced sideways at Aiden, a grin breaking through the tension.

"Hey, man," he said casually, as if they weren’t about to be crushed by an elite force of holy soldiers.

"Good to see you’re here."

Aiden nodded, calm as ever. "Good to see you all too."

His gaze moved over them one by one—Luca, Aurelia, Sylthara, Selena—

Then he frowned.

A pause.

"...Where’s Lilly?"

The question landed harder than any blade.

Kyle’s grin faded instantly.

Aurelia’s jaw tightened.

Even Luca blinked, caught off guard.

He glanced instinctively at Sylthara.

She shook her head slowly, ears lowering just a fraction.

Kyle scratched the back of his head, expression strained.

"She... wanted to come," he said. "But Count Fairmoore didn’t allow it."

Aiden’s eyes flickered—surprise, concern, something deeper passing through them before he looked back at Luca.

Luca nodded once.

...It might be for the better.

The thought came reluctantly.

This wasn’t a place for someone still stitched together by trauma.

Before the silence could stretch any further—

"Can we stop talking," Selena said coldly from above, frost-laced mana rippling faintly around her as the Ice Phoenix circled overhead,

"and focus on fighting now?"

Her eyes were sharp.

Unwavering.

The Divine Guards closed in another step.

Steel rang.

Mana surged.

And the execution square, already soaked in tension, finally tipped past the point of return.

The square exploded into motion.

Steel rang against steel as the Divine Guards surged forward in perfect formation, their movements crisp, disciplined, and merciless. This was no longer a scattered skirmish with inexperienced recruits—this was coordinated suppression, drilled into muscle and instinct.

"Formation—advance!" someone barked.

The front line moved as one.

Luca met them head-on.

His twin sabers flashed, carving tight arcs through the air as he deflected a spear thrust, twisted his wrist, and slammed the flat of his blade into a guard’s helmet. The impact rang out—but the man didn’t fall. He staggered, yes, but another guard immediately stepped in, shield locking into place with the others.

Too clean.

Too trained.

Luca slid back a step, boots grinding against cracked stone.

"Tch."

On his left, Kyle was already moving.

He spun his spear in a wide circle, knocking aside two incoming weapons before lunging forward, the butt of the shaft slamming into a guard’s ribs. The man grunted—but before Kyle could follow through, a second spear struck his shoulder guard, sending him skidding sideways.

"Okay—yeah," Kyle muttered, gritting his teeth, "these guys are NOT the warm-up mobs."

Aurelia was a blur of controlled fire and precision.

She stepped in close, spear thrusting like lightning, flames flaring only at the instant of impact—never wasting mana, never overextending. She knocked one guard off balance, swept his legs, and turned—

Only to be forced back as three shields slammed forward at once, holy sigils flaring as they absorbed her heat.

Her boots dug furrows into the stone as she was pushed back half a meter.

"...They’re anchoring each other," she called out sharply. "Breaking one isn’t enough!"

Aiden moved like a blade of light through the chaos.

Golden mana flared around his sword as he intercepted a downward strike meant for Luca, parrying it cleanly and countering with a precise slash that sent a guard flying backward.

But even he was being contained.

A pair of Divine Guards shifted instantly, weapons crossing to block his next movement, forcing him to disengage and retreat a step.

Aiden’s brows knit slightly.

"So this is the Holy Kingdom’s real force..."

Sylthara was everywhere and nowhere.

She slipped between guards like a shadow, daggers flashing as she targeted joints, tendons, blind spots. One guard dropped to a knee with a sharp cry—but before she could finish disabling him, a burst of holy light forced her to flip backward, landing lightly beside Luca.

Her ears flattened.

"They’re adapting," she said tersely. "Fast."

Above them, Selena fought a different battle.

The Ice Phoenix screamed as it dove, frost scattering like shattered glass. Selena raised her hand, jaw tight with strain, and guided the beast’s movement rather than unleashing raw power.

Sheets of ice formed midair—not large, not overwhelming—but perfectly placed, forcing guards to scatter, breaking formations just long enough for the others to breathe.

Her lightning flickered weakly at her fingertips before dying out.

"...Damn it," she hissed under her breath.

Even with the Phoenix, she could feel it.

Her limits.

The Divine Guards regrouped again.

Boots struck the ground in unison.

Shields locked.

Spears angled forward.

They advanced—not rushing, not panicking—pressing the group back inch by inch.

Luca deflected another strike, sparks skidding along his saber, and felt the pressure mount.

Not overwhelming.

But relentless.

"We’re holding," Kyle shouted, forcing a laugh as he blocked a thrust that nearly slipped past his guard, "but I don’t like how this is going!"

Luca’s eyes flicked over the battlefield.

They weren’t losing.

But they weren’t winning either.

Every opening closed too quickly. Every advantage was countered. For every guard they pushed back, two more filled the gap.

This wasn’t about strength.

It was about endurance.

And the Divine Guards had been trained for exactly this.

Luca took another step back, placing himself subtly between the guards and the Saintess, sabers crossed defensively as he exhaled slowly.

"...Yeah," he muttered under his breath.

Now we’re getting pushed.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as the so-called "first-year students" held their ground against the Holy Kingdom’s elite—bleeding, sweating, straining—but refusing to fall.

And above it all, from the dais—

The bishop watched with clenched fists and burning eyes.

Good, he thought viciously.

Let them struggle.

Because the Holy Kingdom had not yet played its final hand.

The pressure became unbearable.

Boots scraped against stone as Luca and the others were forced back another step—then another. Shields slammed forward in unison, holy sigils flaring brighter with each advance. The Divine Guards moved like a wall, methodical and merciless, leaving no gaps, no room to breathe.

Luca’s sabers crossed hard, deflecting two spears at once. The impact numbed his wrists.

Damn it...

How long do we have to hold on?

He glanced back—just for a heartbeat.

The Saintess stood behind them, chains rattling softly with every tremor of the platform. Her eyes were fixed on him, wide and glistening, lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. She looked smaller than before. More fragile.

Luca grit his teeth.

Just a little longer

.

Another shield slammed into Kyle’s side, sending him skidding back. Aurelia caught his arm before he could fall, flames flaring instinctively as she planted her feet. Aiden stepped in front of Selena, blade raised, golden mana flickering defensively. Sylthara spun low, daggers scraping sparks as she barely avoided a descending spear.

They were still standing—

—but barely.

Then—

A chill ran through the square.

Not the cold of ice.

Not the pressure of divinity.

Something sharper.

Cleaner.

A voice cut through the chaos, calm and effortless, carrying an authority that did not need to shout.

"Don’t bully my juniors."

The words had barely settled—

When a blade sang.

A crescent of compressed sword intent tore through the air, invisible until it struck. The wave slammed into the advancing Divine Guards like a tidal force, ripping their formation apart in an instant.

Shields shattered.

Spears were torn from hands.

Bodies were thrown backward as if swatted aside by an unseen giant, armor screeching against stone as dozens of guards staggered, fell, or were sent crashing into one another.

The advance stopped.

Silence followed—heavy, stunned, unreal.

Luca’s eyes snapped up.

The crowd parted as if pushed aside by an invisible hand.

Through the gap stepped a young man.

Gray hair tied loosely at the back of his head, strands falling calmly around a sharp, composed face. His sword was held low at his side, blade humming faintly with residual intent, as if it hadn’t yet decided whether the fight was truly over.

His posture was relaxed.

Too relaxed.

Like someone who had just swatted away a nuisance.

Whispers erupted instantly.

"Who—?" "Did you see that?" "That wasn’t divine magic—" "That pressure...!"

The Divine Guards scrambled to recover, eyes wide now—not with discipline, but with disbelief.

The bishop froze.

The Pope’s gaze sharpened.

Luca stared.

For a split second, the noise of the square faded into nothing but a distant hum.

Gray hair.

That stance.

That presence.

His breath caught.

His eyes lit up.

And before he could stop himself, the word slipped out—soft, disbelieving, and full of something dangerously close to relief.

"Brother ..."