"Magnus Julius Daenerys, do I have to remind you of your duty?"

Mum's voice caused a few heads to turn and look around. If the Patrician had heard her, he did not bother to present himself.

The people in charge now had better things to worry about than the vain noble.

The swarm of corpse flies struck the ward with unquenchable greed, their ever-growing fervour and numbers making it persistently difficult for the two prestigious shapers to keep them at bay. They had to use all their essence threads to compensate for the broken column, and even so, the pressure continued to build with several large monstrosities targeting the exact weaker section.

They were managing fine so far. I only wished they would continue to do so until my parents dealt with the Ashlord.

Suppressing the chill in my heart, I turned my eyes upwards. With the corpse flies encapsulating the dome, I could barely see them. Combined with the speed at which they were moving, I could only spot the elemental aura resonances emanating from Father's sword through the gaps. Whispering Gale and the flaming Sunbreak flow through his blade and impede the traitor daemon. Its dark power was swallowing every attack he could throw at it, leaving Father with no choice but to engage in physical battle. At least that was where Father thrived.

Meanwhile, Mum had pulled out all the artifacts she had within her spatial storage to arm herself. She swung axes, chains of runes, since the more magical attacks had little effect on it.

With the long bone sword, the Ashlord was hardly inferior in swordsmanship to Father. It could not use aura resonance as well as Father could, but somehow it was throwing back all the elemental powers it had swallowed from his sword.

Worry and trepidation clawed at every inch of my being as I watched in powerlessness.

"Lucian, can you do anything about the barrier?" Old Rowin shouted. He was flanked by the headmaster, both holding their palms forward as essence threads coalesced and joined together to maintain the ward.

"I'm sorry," the auxiliary said, his eyes falling upon the crumbled hallowed stone. "Even when they were intact, I barely grasped their principles, and now they are like this..."

The militia and the sentries stood behind them in battle stance, most armed with the fabricators we had brought out from the workshop, waiting for when the two could no longer keep the monsters at bay. The same powerlessness and dread clung to their body.

At the very end of the lines stood a solitary figure with his arms clasped across his chest, showing none of the nervousness. Magnus Daenerys did not seem to care about the corpse flies festering over the barrier; his eyes were drawn only to the fight in the sky.

"Lucian!" shouted Larius. "Since you cannot repair it, perhaps you'd like to be useful in something else? Like, keeping this blighted barrier up?"

"Ah, sorry," the man apologised quickly, falling in beside him. His noble-class prowess sprang forth to join theirs, augmenting the barrier with the little he could provide against their prestigious class.

I, too, did not deliberate any longer and joined them.

"Arilyn," Headmaster Larius said, "you are not supposed to—"

"I can help," I said. Before the two elders could argue my point, I raised my palm to show them the artefact on my wrist as all 256 essence threads bolted forth to contribute where the barrier was weakened.

Both prestigious-class shapers were channelling essence threads more than twice the number of my bracelet, though my forcefield did not lose much strength compared to theirs, benefiting from the rune formations engraved within. I could not keep the [Band of Protection] active as long as them, but at least I could give them some breathing room to gather their strength.

"How long can you keep it going?" the Headmaster asked me.

I honestly had no idea. Most of the essence stored within the bracelet had already been expended in my previous fight. Even my Levitation boots barely had any left. However, with my current noble class, I could continue to draw more essence without exhaustion.

"A little over a quarter of an hour," I said with conviction. My maths were rough, but I noticed that the essence I was recovering through my Aether roots was about four times what it had been the last time I was Common class. With such a rate of recovery, I could keep the levitation boots running at a relative pace for close to a couple of hours. Only the silver band demanded far more essence, especially when the forcefield was constantly being battered by humongous corpse flies.

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My gaze drifted towards the fight overhead. A quarter of an hour was by no means enough for their fight to end. I harboured no illusion that my parents could defeat that Ashlord. The Daemons, despite not having traversed their mortality entirely, were unkillable. At least by mortal means. As far as the legends went, their souls were eternal, but their physical forms were dire within the pestilence of mortality.

As it had said, a mortal body could not weather its soul. Even if there was nobody to kill it, the body would wither away, leaving it open to possess another person.

"My limit isn't much longer either," said Old Rowin, before fishing out a vial of blue potion clinging to his belt. "But with this, I can keep going for a while longer. Say, Larry, want one?"

"In ten minutes," returned the headmaster.

Using a few of his threads, he uncorked the recovery potion and gulped down the pale blue liquid. The potion could not quite recover all the essence so much as it enabled an awakened to draw more essence through their Aether roots. Usually, within minutes of ingestion, a shaper could fill their essence seed completely. The problem came afterwards, with the Aether roots becoming too fragile and unable to recover essence at a regular rate. Awakened were advised against regular use or abusing large doses in quick succession. Unfortunately, it was that kind of night.

As the guildmaster held out another vial for Larius, my gaze drifted towards the crumbled column. A third of it still stood, bubbling with rich essence. Several of my threads flew to it to see if any of it was usable. Usually, it was a bad idea to draw any foreign essence within one's body, but this felt like a day for bad ideas. After all, Mum had not needed to utilise any essence cell or core to erect the barrier in the first place.

It did not take me long to discover the sheer amount of power churning within the base of the formation. It remained there, only seeping out sporadically without being directed anywhere.

Can it be channelled into the formation?

If it were possible without dire consequences, then perhaps keeping the ward standing would not be a problem at all.

Tentatively, I drew a trickle of the golden essence through my threads. The force of it was too violent to be implemented well, but a little tamer than I had anticipated. Without thinking much, I decided to pour the trickle of essence into my levitation boots. Channelling it through my essence seed might have consequences I dare not wish upon anybody, but I could live with my fabricators turning into scraps.

It presented no problem to connect a pair of steady streams of essence to the boots, keeping my threads clear of the potent power. Now it remained to see how I could implement it through the [Band of Protection].

Unfortunately, whilst I was experimenting with the vast tangle of essence within the column, a figure flew down and struck the ward we were maintaining. The impact startled me, and I looked up to see Father, still embroidered in the soul rope.

"Aranian swordsmanship, was it?" The Daemon drifted down, Mum chasing after it with her axes to little effect. "There are still fools who master these flimsy tricks. Now let me show you what true swordsmanship is."

The Ashlord held the bone sword in both hands for the first time. It brimmed with dark power—the very essence of midnight—shrouding its bone-white edges. The daemon took stance, but before the sword ray was released, a blurry bubble of power encapsulated its form. The Ashlord's figure moved within the bubble at an ungodly pace, its sword untraceable to my mortal eyes.

A dozen sword rays thrust at Father as soon as the demon's figure became still again. Each one clawed its way through the rigid earth, brimming with such force that it left a tearing landslide in its wake.

Father could have evaded, but he did not do so. If he had, all the sword aura would have struck the barrier behind him, which certainly could not withstand even one of those impacts.

A reddish aura exploded outwards as he fell into Walking Mountain, infusing his aura into the earth to neutralise the blows, whilst Mother's axe struck the monster from behind.

A chain of runes sprang forth to cling to its limbs, impeding its movement. The Ashlord was fully capable of breaking the chains, but before it could muster its prowess, the captivating golden runes began to brand themselves upon its bone armour.

A look of astonishment crossed its dark eyes. "You two are more of an annoyance than I anticipated," it said. Whilst the midnight essence swallowed the runes, the time it took was more than an instant, and throughout, its physical prowess was greatly impeded. "I shall see how long you can keep this up."

Once again, the bubble formed and its sword blurred into motion, releasing dozens of sword forces at once. But this time, they did not target Father but the barriers we were protecting.

Instantly, all our expressions changed. The Ashlord cackled, watching my parents abandon their attack to ensure the sword rays did not fall upon the barrier. Father's pace eclipsed anything I had seen, splattering a few of the sword rays to weaken the rest with his nullifying aura, when Mother flung kinetic shields to neutralise the rest of their force.

He engaged the Ashlord, breaking through the attacks it threw at him. He could not nullify all of them, that was where Mum deterred them.

"Against the dominion of time, all your tricks are futile."

More than twenty sword rays exploded towards the barrier, most of them escaping Father's aura. Mum had to tear through the ranks of corpse flies and put her body on the line to disrupt the sword forces. Cracks appeared on her golden plate, leaking radiant essence, as her soul ward whipped about, deflecting the sword rays.

But even she had limits, which became dire apparent when all the sun-cursed creatures plunged towards her. Even with all her essence threads, she could only tear through so many corpse flies—creatures that had many prestigious-class beaten.

Unbeknownst to her, a deflected sword force twisted in its path to descend upon our barrier. A whip of her essence threads followed, clinging to the force, but the damage was done.

A murky blindness struck my mind as the barrier came undone, all our essence threads tearing away like an overly wrung rope. The remainder of the devastating force struck like a hammer, throwing us several metres into the cold embrace of the earth.

Disoriented, I coughed severely, blood bubbling out of my lips. A forcefield protected my form once my control over the artefact lapsed. The others did not have such protection. Thankfully, none of them had sustained any grievous wounds.

The little comfort I had was soon overshadowed by the large opening in the barrier. Dozens of corpse flies slipped in, crashing against each other in a mad dive as if in a contest to see who amongst them could drink our blood first.

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