No man Island…
The sky over No Man Island was an inferno of light and fury.
Jason Mama, the head of the Nine Realms Association, stood tall on a golden chariot, his eyes gleaming with ruthless determination. Below him, an army of eight million wizards unleashed torrents of spells upon the island.
The earth quaked under the relentless onslaught, explosions erupting like volcanic fury, turning the island into a burning cauldron of destruction.
“Show no mercy!” Jason Mama commanded, his voice amplified through magical orbs that carried his orders across the battlefield. “Turn that cursed place into ash! Aim for their fortifications, their strongholds—leave nothing standing!”
The magical artillery, anchored by the Seven-Story Pagoda, rained down fire and ice, explosion and thunder. The barrier protecting the island shimmered under the relentless assault, cracks appearing at its edges. Every inch of the island was bombarded with chaotic energy, blinding flashes, and deafening booms.
Jason smirked, watching the destruction. “Do you see this, Madam Clark? Your petty rebellion ends today. No Man Island will be your grave.”
Inside the collapsing defenses of No Man Island, chaos reigned. The sworn wizards were pushed to their limits, their morale plummeting with every wave of the enemy’s attack. Fear and despair gripped the army of three million as they saw no end to the relentless bombardment.
Amidst the panic and ruin, a lone figure rose. Ileana, the vice leader of the Wind-Fan Faction, stood on a high ridge, her armor battered but her spirit unyielding. She raised her wrist, revealing the symbol of the sworn wizards—a flaming wind-fan etched into her skin.
“Listen to me!” her voice roared over the din of battle, amplified by a gust of wind she summoned with a flick of her hand. “Do you remember why we came here? Why we fight? This symbol on my wrist is not just a mark—it’s a promise. A promise that we will not bow to tyranny! That we will fight for our freedom, for our families, for those who fell before us!”
Her fiery words cut through the chaos, reaching the hearts of the battered army. The soldiers stopped in their tracks, their eyes locking onto her as she continued.
“My father, the leader of the Wind-Fan Faction, died fighting for this cause. Many of you have lost family and friends. Will you let their sacrifices be in vain? Or will you rise and show the Nine Realms Association the strength of the sworn wizards?”
A resounding cheer erupted from the army. Soldiers who had moments ago faltered now stood tall, their resolve hardened.
“Together, we stand!” Ileana shouted, her voice a battle cry.
“Together, we fight!” the soldiers roared back.
The army of sworn wizards, now reinvigorated, formed new battle lines, their eyes blazing with determination.
At the forefront of the sworn wizards’ counterattack stood the Supreme Sword Magus, his half-sovereign aura radiating like a blazing sun. His sword, a relic of immeasurable power, hummed in his hand, eager for blood.
He raised the sword high, its blade catching the light of a dying sun. “This island will not fall while I stand!” he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his unyielding spirit. “Witness the strength of the sworn wizards!”
With a single swing, he unleashed a blinding arc of sword light. The entire battlefield fell silent for a moment as the radiance consumed everything in its path. The first few lines of the Nine Realms army disintegrated into dust, their cries cut short. A deafening silence followed, broken only by the crackling energy of the sword light as it faded.
The sudden decimation caused a ripple of panic through Jason Mama’s forces. The sworn wizards seized the opportunity, charging forward with renewed ferocity.
“Advance!” Ileana cried, leading her faction.
The sworn wizards unleashed a storm of spells, their combined might creating a tidal wave of destruction. Flames roared, ice shards flew like deadly arrows, and the ground erupted with spikes of earth, tearing through the enemy ranks. The once-confident Nine Realms army found itself on the defensive, struggling to regroup.
But Jason Mama was no fool. He observed the battlefield with cold calculation, his mind working like a chess master plotting his next move. His eyes locked onto Ileana and Ragnar, who stood as the rallying points of the sworn wizards’ forces.
“Bring me their heads,” Jason ordered his Forbidden Army commanders, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
The Forbidden Army, infamous for their barbaric and unrelenting tactics, surged forward like a tidal wave of darkness. Their coordinated formations cut through the sworn wizards’ ranks, their synchronisation and discipline unmatched.
Despite the sworn wizards’ ferocity, the Forbidden Army’s relentless pressure began to take its toll. The battlefield turned into a blood-soaked land as both sides suffered devastating losses. The once-bright sky darkened with the smoke of countless spells and the cries of the dying.
Ileana, her robes stained with blood, fought valiantly alongside Ragnar. But their efforts were not enough to stem the tide of the Forbidden Army.
“They’re targeting us!” Ragnar shouted, deflecting a barrage of spells with his shield.
Ileana gritted her teeth, her gaze darting toward Jason Mama, who observed the battle from afar, his expression cold and calculating. “He wants to break us,” she muttered. “He knows if we fall, the army will collapse on our side. We must defend and give support to the eastern side’s army.”
“Yes, we should stand until Madam Clark or Elarin comes to aid. Hold the lines, release the defence traps.” Ragnar cried while attacking with all his will.
But like locusts the enemy targeted them particularly and stormed towards them.
Suddenly, a group of Forbidden Army soldiers surrounded them. Before Ileana and Ragnar could react, enchanted chains shot out, wrapping around them and binding their movements.
“No!” Ileana screamed, struggling against the chains as Jason Mama approached above, his laughter echoing across the sky.
“Well, well,” Jason said, his tone dripping with mockery. “The vice leader of the Wind-Fan Faction and the traitorous brother of Ryon. How poetic that you both fall together.”
“You’ll never win, Jason!” Ileana spat, her voice filled with defiance.
Jason smirked. “Oh, but I already have. Look around you. Your army is in shambles. Your rebellion is over.”
He turned to his soldiers. “Take them! We leave this cursed island now.” Jason pulled the chains that bind Ragnar and Ileana and left the battlefield with victorious laughter.
As Jason Mama’s forces withdrew from No Man Island, the sworn wizards watched in despair. Even though the war paused for the time being, two important persons were captured by the enemy.
Jason’s triumphant laughter echoed across the battlefield as his army marched away, leaving behind the smoldering remains of No Man Island. For the sworn wizards, the war was far from over.
–
Thank you for the Golden Tickets!