Mira was afraid. Genuinely, unmistakably afraid. Terror churned in her chest, and even with her back resting against her captain, she still felt the instinctive urge to curl into a ball and hide.
Only yesterday morning she had still been in her cell. And now she was flying toward a battlefield, toward a fight against the very people who had freed her. It was dizzying. It was overwhelming. It was too much.
Even so, Mira didn't regret her decision. She still believed she'd made the right choice by refusing to follow Sylas and his rebels. She had seen what true freedom looked like, she'd seen it in the Black Bulls. She wanted to stay with them. To be part of them. And if that meant she had to fight, even though every part of her screamed that she didn't want to, she would fight.
But as she watched mages and Demacian guards clashing from high above on her captain's floating sword, she couldn't stop one thought from whispering through her mind.
'How am I supposed to do that?'
She felt Captain Asta lean forward slightly, and the sword dipped lower toward the ground. Ahead, the MageSeekers' headquarters loomed into view.
And the entrance… looked exactly like yesterday. Mages and soldiers slaughtering each other with magic and steel, fighting with no rhythm, no mercy, no sense.
Mira shut her eyes for a moment. She could feel the rush of wind against her face as they descended, cold, sharp, carrying the scent of burning stone.
Then everything changed.
In an instant, the sound of battle stopped. The clashing blades. The roaring flames. The grinding earth. The chaos vanished as the world simply… fell silent.
She didn't need to open her eyes to know why.
But when she did, she saw it clearly.
Every soldier. Every rebel mage. Every single person on the ground was staring upward, not at her, though she sat in plain view.
They were staring at the man standing behind her.
The Captain of the Black Bulls.
"You know, I really didn't want to come back to this place so soon," Asta said, irritation threading through his voice. "But you guys have a lot of balls to attack again this quickly after yesterday."
He stepped down from the floating sword first, landing lightly. Mira followed after him, taking his hand as she climbed down. Strangely, no one moved to attack them, not even when Asta paused to steady her.
"So here's what's going to happen," Asta said as he walked past Mira, his sword resting lazily on his shoulder. His eyes were fixed on a green-haired woman tangled in living vines. "You're all going to walk out of here. Quietly. You can return to wherever you came from without getting harassed… or you can stay, and get the worst ass-kicking of your life. Real embarrassing too."
Mira pressed her lips together to hold back a snicker, turning her head slightly so no one would see.
"Sir Asta, what are you talking about?" a guard called out. Mira stiffened when she recognized the armor, broad plates marked with the crest of the Dauntless Vanguard, Demacia's most elite knights.
She would never forget that armor. The Vanguard were the ones who dragged her father away after he fought back against the MageSeekers. She had screamed for him then, begged, but they never let her see him again.
"Letting these traitors go? Surely you jest," the knight said, his tone hopeful, as if expecting Asta to laugh and correct himself. "They attacked the city. Demacia is burning. We can end this right here."
Mira shifted uneasily, her hands clasping each other. She didn't like this tension. It reminded her too much of her father being dragged away in chains.
The green-haired mage tangled in vines spoke up, her eyes sharp. "We aren't surrendering. Not to them." She nodded at the knights, bitterness leaking through every word. "Not after what they've done to us."
Asta didn't look at her. He just asked quietly, "Do you want to fight me, then?"
Silence.
The woman's breath hitched. Her shoulders tensed. But she said nothing.
"Thought so," Asta muttered. He lifted his sword from his shoulder, holding it at his side. The motion was calm.
But the earth vibrated.
Mira saw it, the way the rebels' knees bent instinctively. The way the knights shifted back a step without even realizing it. The way even the air itself seemed to brace.
Asta wasn't releasing magic. He wasn't threatening anyone.
He was simply standing there in front of everyone.
And that alone terrified everyone.
Asta planted his sword into the ground with a dull thunk. "Look. I'm not here to babysit anyone. I'm not here to pick sides. I'm here because this is a mess. And if I'm going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future, then this needs to be cleared up."
His eyes locked on the Vanguard knight.
"You want justice? Then stop making things worse."
Then his gaze flicked to the rebels.
"You want freedom? Then stop setting stuff on fire."
He rolled his shoulders once, cracking his neck. "Everyone walks away. Everyone gets to go back home. No one loses their father, or their mother, or sister or loved ones. Let's not create orphans or widows and widowers."
The Vanguard knight grit his teeth. "Sir Asta… these rebels cannot be allowed to simply walk away. They must answer for their crimes."
Asta gave him a flat stare. "And tell me, who's going to answer for yours?"
The knight froze. The entire squad froze. Even the rebels froze.
"Because I've been into that building and buddy, it's taking every ounce of self restraint I have to not to tear this building into shreds." Asta pointed at the entrance to the MageSeekers headquarters. "Don't preach about justice to me."
The knight's knuckles whitened around his spear. For a moment, Mira thought he'd attack. She braced herself instinctively, pumpkins weren't going to save her from that.
But then… slowly… his spear lowered.
The rebels stared. The guards stared. Mira stared.
Asta nodded once. "Good. We're getting somewhere."
Then he jerked his chin toward the rebels. "Go. Get out of here. You got ten minutes before I change my mind."
The green-haired mage blinked in disbelief. "You're… letting us go?"
Asta was already turning away. "Lady, I've got better things to do than smack both sides of this argument across the street. Move."
The rebels exchanged looks, uncertain, confused, but relieved. They began pulling back, some supporting their injured, others dragging those too weak to walk.
Mira watched them leave, a weird feeling in her chest. Her captain had just stopped the entire fight without even having spilled a single blood. This was true freedom.
"You're only doing this..." She heard the Dauntless Vanguard knight speak. "You're only supporting them, because you're a mage. The Sword-Captain will hear this."
Asta paused, turning to face the knight that had spoken.
"All you are is a kid who got his hand on a dangerous curse." The knight finished with grit teeth.
Asta exhaled once, slow and heavy, before he finally looked over his shoulder.
"You done?" he asked.
The Dauntless Vanguard knight straightened, gripping his spear like a lifeline. "It's the truth. You wield cursed power that no mortal should possess. You didn't earn it. You didn't train for it. You stumbled upon something dangerous, and now you throw your weight around like a child."
Mira flinched. The rebels flinched. Even the guards behind him shifted uneasily.
Asta pulled his sword free from the ground with a soft scrape of metal. Mira felt that same ripple in the air as before, an instinctive warning, a pressure like the world bracing for impact.
Still, Asta didn't raise the blade.
He simply walked forward.
And soldiers, elite, armored, proud, stepped back from him without realizing they were doing it.
Asta stopped a few feet in front of the knight and tilted his head slightly. "You think I'm a kid with a curse?"
The knight sneered. "That's exactly what you are."
Asta hummed, almost thoughtfully. "Right. Because you know me. You've fought beside me. You've seen my training. You've watched me bleed for the people I care about. You..."
"What you care about isn't Demacia," the knight snapped. "It's mages. Your kind."
Mira felt like something cold stabbed through her chest. Her fingers curled involuntarily. That wasn't true. It wasn't true at all.
Asta stared at the knight for a long moment before saying, "Ah. Now it makes sense. So you're one of those."
"One of what?" the knight spat.
"One of the people who thinks justice is whatever makes you feel like the good guy."
Silence spread again. Thick and suffocating.
Asta continued, voice steady but sharp. "You say I didn't earn my power. Fine. Maybe. But the difference between us is simple."
He pointed his sword, not at the knight's throat, but down, at the blood-soaked ground.
"I've never had to use my strength to make excuses."
Asta took a slow step forward, and the man stood before him with bravado he obviously didn't have.
"You see a mage, you see a criminal. You see rebellion, you see monsters. You see anyone who doesn't fit in your perfect little kingdom, and you think the world would be better if they were gone."
The knight bristled. "They attacked our city!"
"And your city attacked them first." Asta's voice rose, not in anger, but like someone finally done holding their breath. "I walked through those halls yesterday. I saw corpses chained to those walls."
Several guards looked away.
Asta took another step. "Tell me, where was your justice then?"
The knight swallowed hard. "Those… those are dangerous individuals."
"They were kids." Asta's voice cracked, not loudly, but enough for Mira to feel it. "Kids who never got a chance."
The knight said nothing.
Asta leaned forward just slightly, his eyes narrowed. "Here's the truth. I'm not letting them go because I'm a mage. I'm letting them go because none of you deserved to die today."
He sheathed his sword in one smooth motion.
"And I don't need a kingdom's approval to do the right thing."
The knight trembled, jaw clenched tight. "The Sword-Captain will hear of this."
"Good," Asta said immediately. "I hope he does. Maybe Garen's got more common sense than you."
Asta turned his back on the knight completely and walked toward Mira. "Come on. We've still got half a burning city to put out. And a lot more rebels to convince to stop. I'm going to be doing a lot of shouting it seems."
But behind him, the knight wasn't finished.
"You think this makes you a hero?" he shouted. "You think protecting criminals makes you noble?"
Mira was really starting to get fed up by the knight. He really should know when he was defeated. She saw Asta turn to the sky instead of the knight.
It was then she noticed that the surroundings was a little brighter than earlier. Mira looked up, and a blue fireball the size of a wagon was streaking toward Asta from above the rooftops.
Her eyes widened. "Captain!"
Asta didn't even turn. "Of course."
The fireball hit.
For a moment, the world turned white and blue with a sound that deafened everything.
It took a moment for everything to settle down. When the smoke cleared a second later, Mira's eyes widened with awe.
Asta stood there, completely untouched, one hand raised casually Infront his head, palm open. A small ball of blue fire rested on it, hovering just above it.
The entire battlefield stared in disbelief.
Asta turned the burning sphere in his palm like he was examining a toy. "Alright. Who exactly thought this was a smart idea?"
A figure appeared from the rising smoke on the building top, he seemed to be holding a broom that was surrounded by blue flames. Most notable of all...
He was a kid, around Mira's age, maybe a little older, but his eyes were nothing like hers.
Where Mira's were full of fear and uncertainty, his were burning, swallowed completely by rage and in real time, they changed to something deeper… betrayal.
"So Sylas was right," the boy said, his fists trembling at his sides. "When I heard about you, we were all so excited. A mage in Demacia the MageSeekers couldn't silence. Someone strong enough to do whatever he wanted."
His voice cracked, but the fury never faded.
"But you're just like them in the end. Pretending you're better, when all you're doing is helping the people who tortured us. Who tortured me."
Mira blinked. She had known her captain was strong. Unbelievably strong. But the idea that he could "do whatever he wanted" in Demacia?
Asta didn't respond to the accusation.
Didn't even look bothered.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly.
"What's your name, kid?"
The boy flinched, as if he hadn't expected the question. He hesitated, then answered with a glare.
"Rukko. Sylas told us to stay away from you. Said you weren't someone we should fight. But I had to know. I had to see for myself."
"You seem disappointed," Asta said with a shrug. "Not like that's my problem what you think about me. You have something against the MageSeekers, well so do I, but I can't allow what you're all doing to continue. For the sake of the innocents that'll get caught up in this. So if you don't mind, it would be really helpful if you could just take the whole rebellion with you and leave."
Rukko growled. "Never. Today is the day when we show Demacia that we mages are no longer afraid..."
Asta moved.
Rukko flinched. Honestly, everyone flinched. Soldiers, rebels, even Mira felt her body jerk in reflex as the anti-magic captain shot forward with alarming speed.
Before Mira could even ask what was happening, Asta snapped his large sword back into the grimoire on his hip. In the same motion he drew another blade, a shorter one, though still long enough to be dangerous, broader than his katana but far lighter than the Demon-Slayer.
Mira barely had time to blink before Asta's hand clamped onto her shoulder and yanked her behind him.
"Captain..?" she started, startled.
But Asta was already turning, already slashing downward with his new blade.
A black wave exploded from the strike, a crescent of void energy that grew wider and deeper as it tore through the ground. The earth screamed as the wave carved a trench so long, Mira couldn't even see where it ended.
A single swing had ripped a trench large enough to swallow half a house.
Gasps rose from every throat.
A slash like that… hadn't been aimed at anyone here.
'Why did he do that…?' Mira thought, and she knew everyone else was thinking the same thing.
Then she noticed it. The trench, the path of destruction, hadn't been perfectly straight. There was a point where the earth crumbled at a slightly different angle, as though the strike had been nudged aside mid-flight.
And the reason appeared as the dust lifted.
A tall figure stepped out of the drifting smoke.
She had pale skin, ethereal and cold. Behind her head and back unfurled wings, actual wings, shaped like shards of night. Her gown swept down to the ground, moving unnaturally, as though the shadows themselves carried its weight.
Mira felt her breath stall.
Asta's eyes narrowed. "I recognize this ki…" he muttered. "What did he call her last time? Was it… Morgana?"
The woman flexed her right wrist with a soft exhale. The skin was faintly scorched. "So your power truly is Undoing," she said calmly. "I only brushed it, and it still burned me."
Mira's legs trembled. The air between Morgana and Asta felt sharp, cold, heavy with the promise of something dreadful.
Her captain stood firm.
The woman stood firm.
Mira swallowed hard, fear crawling up her spine.
Yes.
She was genuinely, unmistakably afraid.