Episode 28 

Curtis  smiled—a quiet, crooked grin that landed somewhere between amusement and mockery. It was the kind of smile that made enemies seethe. And sure enough, it did.

Redna’s teeth clenched with fury.

“One deflected spell, and he dares to smirk…!”

Her wrath surged, and the flame obeyed. The fire spirit, bound to her will, roared in resonance.

It coiled around her right arm, transforming into a gauntlet of searing flame. As she raised her arm skyward, fire leapt like a living pillar—a tower of wrath spearing toward the heavens.

Cries of awe rose from her side, and Redna, pleased by the reaction, brought her arm down in a wide, cutting arc.

The fiery column twisted like a whip, then fractured.

A storm of fire rained down, breaking apart into dozens of fragments—each blazing ember hurtling toward Narok’s lines like a meteor shower summoned from the stars.

Let’s see you block this, mage.

But Curtis  was already in motion.

FWOOOSH!

From behind him, water erupted.

A geyser burst from the wagon like a waterfall in reverse, shattering into shards of liquid force. Each segment of the column scattered like glass blown by a hurricane.

CRACK! HISS! BOOM!

Water met fire midair.

Steam exploded.

Each flame was intercepted—all of them. Not one ember made it through. Redna’s blazing rain had turned to nothing more than smoldering sparks and mist.

And yet—she wasn’t done.

From the battlefield’s edge, another serpent of flame slithered across the ground, its jaws wide open, aiming to consume Curtis  in a single molten bite.

SSSSSHHHHHH—!!

But once more, water answered.

A torrent surged from nowhere, intercepting the oncoming flame. Fire and water clashed like rival beasts, biting at one another until both vanished into sizzling vapor.

“No… No! This can’t be happening!”

Redna’s voice cracked, on the verge of a scream—her pride, her power, thwarted completely.

“C-Commence the attack!” she yelled.

The order was more shriek than command. But it was enough.

On the other side of the battlefield, the Narok commander—who had been so captivated by the elemental duel that he’d forgotten to breathe—finally found his voice.

“CHARGE!!”

“WAAAAHHHH!!”

The war cry rang out as Narok’s warriors surged forward, spirits blazing with newfound hope.

They were close now—close enough that even Curtis , whose sight was no keener than any other man’s, could see the Gaude soldiers’ grim faces. Especially the Silvers in the front line. They were only seconds apart now.

“S-Stop them!”

Gaude’s commander, equally slow to react, shouted with fury and fear. His voice cracked under pressure, too late to regain initiative.

Still, Gaude’s forces were no fools. Their bodies moved with the discipline of experience, steel meeting steel as instinct took over. They would not fall easily.

Meanwhile, Redna was being dragged backward, her expression flickering with disbelief and rage.

“Fall back!” her guardian barked. “Now!”

“Th-this can’t be…”

“Retreat, I said!”

He seized her by the arm and pulled her out of harm’s way as Narok’s Silver vanguard smashed into the front.

Bronze warriors followed swiftly behind, crashing like a second wave into the flanks of Gaude’s forces. The battlefield descended into chaos—but one truth had already been decided:

For the first time, Gaude had lost the first blow. And the momentum.

Amidst the roiling madness, a curious peace surrounded Curtis .

He sat casually on the wagon’s edge, as though he’d come for a picnic rather than a war.

“A bit too relaxed, don’t you think?” Terty grumbled nearby.

Curtis  raised an eyebrow and gestured toward the fray.

“Not as relaxed as you. I see our Silver-ranked allies up front, bleeding and dying. You, meanwhile, seem to be watching as intently as I am.”

“They’re not comrades. Just allies. There’s a difference.”

“Still, they fight while we sit.”

“Watch your words, mage. I’m here to guard you, after all.”

“If they break through to here, we’ve already lost.”

“Point taken,” Terty muttered, then added, “No archers in sight. That’s a blessing.”

Though they exchanged barbs, both men were far from idle.

Terty, ever-vigilant, had heightened his senses, watching every flicker of movement. Bronze-ranked warriors flanked them, three in total, forming a triangle around the wagon. Guarding the flanks, the rear—the precious center.

Close combat was unlikely—but ranged threats remained.

If an arrow came, they would block it with their own bodies.

That was the deal.

And truth be told, Curtis  preferred having Terty at his back. Better a known blade than an unknown shadow.

“There she goes again,” Curtis  muttered, clicking his tongue.

He flicked a hand lazily.

A jar perched atop the wagon split open, and water shot out, swirling into a lance midair. With a twist of his fingers, he hurled it like a spear across the field.

SHHRAAK!

The watery bolt intercepted a flame serpent that had been slithering toward a Narok warrior, extinguishing it mid-pounce.

The warrior beneath was drenched, but safe.

“Almost out of jars,” Terty noted, glancing back at the wagon.

“We’ll be fine,” Curtis  said with a nod. “Mana’s a bit low, though.”

“And that’s supposed to reassure me?”

“Means she’s probably in the same shape. Spirits don’t burn fuel forever.”

“Ah. I see.”

“I’ll run out of magic before we run out of water.”

The wagon itself was nothing special—just a rolling water tank, filled with large clay jars. Narok’s original idea had been to use them like primitive fire engines—dousing warriors after they’d been scorched.

It hadn’t worked.

But with Curtis , it became something else entirely. An arsenal. His only request to Lord Bruno had been this: Give me water, and I’ll hold the line.

And so far, he had.

“Her flame is strong—but not strong enough to overturn elemental law. If I didn’t have this wagon, it might be another story.”

“But you do. So it isn’t.”

“Exactly. She’s got flash. Power. But little else.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Honestly?” Curtis  shrugged. “If I were the one wielding fire, I’d be far more versatile. This spirit—either it’s limited, or it’s weak.”