Trial by Power: The City of Kresa Unleashed

An explosion reverberated through the night, shattering the tranquil ambiance of Kresa, a city bathed in eerie silence. The formidable burst of flame roared in defiance, the wrath of an untamed inferno. A vortex of smoke swirled like malevolent spirits summoned from the depths of Hades itself, their tendrils creeping and curling around shattered buildings and splintered streets.

But within this cataclysmic tableau, there appeared a miracle, a moment of divine intervention that defied reason and physics. Saphir, the primary target of the initial explosion, emerged unscathed, her azure knight's armor bearing nothing but a slight bruise, a mere blemish on the visage of her once-pristine armor. What force had interceded to shield her from this devastating blast? The fiery tempest had passed, but Saphir remained trembling, her fragile frame besieged by fear and astonishment.

In her life as a Seven Star Knight, Saphir had faced countless perils, from ferocious beasts that took months to subdue to confronting hordes of warriors willing to lay down their lives for their land. But this was different, a menacing presence that gripped her soul, a fear that threatened to drown her. Paralyzed, she stood still, trapped in a maelstrom of anxiety.

Slowly, with trembling limbs and a racing heart, she turned to her side, and there she beheld a sight that deepened her bewilderment. A fellow knight, garbed in a slimline suit of shimmering blue armor, much more compact and closer in size to a regular human, stood at her side. His presence was as mysterious as it was baffling.

"Thure... What took you so long to get down?" Saphir mumbled, her voice a quiver of both relief and frustration. Her breath was heavy and steamy, beads of sweat clung to her forehead, and her trembling body seemed on the brink of collapse. Her wide eyes stared unblinkingly, grappling with the astonishing events that had unfolded before her.

The helmeted knight named Thure smirked, the concealed expression hinted at arrogance. "I simply wanted to join in on the fun," he said casually, his voice betraying the thrill he derived from the chaos. He noticed the tumultuous emotions that wrestled within Saphir and reveled in them.

Meanwhile, the mage in green, his battered and broken body sent careening from the explosion, lay unconscious upon a nearby car, a grim testimony to the fiery storm that had engulfed him. He bore gruesome wounds, a tapestry of burns, shrapnel injuries, and bloodied gashes. Thure averted his gaze from Saphir to the hapless mage. "That fellow over there, he's out cold. I think you should end his suffering," Thure suggested, his words steeped in condescension. He could sense Saphir's moral dilemma and relished in her vulnerability.

Saphir's helmeted face contorted with a mixture of grief and anger. Her tears welled up, and her hand instinctively moved to her mouth in shock. She grappled with the moral dilemma of ending a life, a decision that weighed heavily upon her. "Go away. I need to find the boy Liu wants to interrogate," she muttered, her voice muffled by her internal conflict.

"Fine, I'll do it myself," Thure said, his tone menacing. Saphir turned her gaze toward him, apprehensive about what was to come.

Thure approached the injured mage with his golden sword in hand, prepared to deliver the fatal blow. Saphir's heart ached, her inability to act leaving her with a sense of failure. The tension between the two knights was palpable, and Saphir's emotions were laid bare.

"Stop, stop!" Saphir's desperate cry echoed through the battlefield, causing Thure to pause in his relentless pursuit of the vulnerable mage.

Thure hesitated, but it was too late. With a single, brutal swing, his golden sword cleaved through the mage and the car beneath him, turning them into a grotesque tableau of carnage. Organs tumbled, and blood pooled upon the asphalt, creating a nightmarish scene of brutality. A chilling smile lingered behind Thure's helmet, hidden but no less disturbing.

Saphir could no longer bear to witness the gruesome tableau before her. Her tears welled up behind her helmet, and her hand moved to her mouth, stifling a sob. Her perception of the world had shattered, and she felt like a failure, incapable of preventing such cruelty.

"Stop crying!" Thure's command cut through the silence of the battlefield. He approached Saphir, an aura of aggression radiating from his armored form. She stepped back, her armor-clad figure in retreat, away from the anger that threatened to consume her.

Saphir's strength and determination waned, overwhelmed by her emotions. Thure's callousness and cruelty etched a deep wound in her psyche, leaving her heart heavy with sorrow and regret.

Suddenly, a violent explosion shattered the oppressive atmosphere. Both Saphir and Thure were hurled in opposite directions, their armor showing signs of weakness, marred by dents and fractures. The sheer force of the blast had taken them both by surprise.

Struggling to regain their composure, they found themselves looking toward the source of the explosion. Their confusion and unease deepened as they recognized the enigmatic figure responsible for this immense force. It was none other than the mage sentinel, Erlixius, who now lay battered and defeated.

"Stand down, all of you!" the mage sentinel's voice thundered from above. He was a figure of immense power, the only one capable of taking on the Seven Star Knights.

Thure's gaze swept the area, his vision still obscured by the aftermath of the explosion. Something was amiss. The presence of the mage sentinel had been an unexpected and unwelcome twist.

"What's your problem?" Thure struggled to speak, his body still aching from the blast.

"The problem is that your presence here has alerted the School of Arcane Magic. That's why I had to step in," the wise mage sentinel explained. He was adorned in a purple robe with intricate golden designs.

"And it seems one of the relics is here, correct?" Thure asked, his suspicion et

ched into every word.

The mage sentinel confirmed, "That's correct, but we've been sent to collect it."

"Your skirmish has left this place in ruins. I can't simply hand it over."

"Fine, but we will have the boy," Zoh, one of the Seven Star Knights, demanded, his tone growing more insistent.

The mage sentinel remained firm. "Not a chance."

Zoh's voice turned more persuasive. "Elaborate. Let us take the boy, and we will leave in peace."

The mage sentinel, however, had other plans. "I will encase him within a sealed box. He'll have to determine whether he's a threat to this world or not. If he possesses any magical powers derived from the relic, you can take him. But if he does not, we'll keep him under close watch throughout Kresa. In either case, you won't leave with the relic."

"Very well," Zoh conceded, though his eyes held a hint of mistrust.

The mage sentinel continued, "My time at the School of Arcane Magic has shown me that this power is beyond both me and you. It will be placed in a secure location, out of reach for everyone."

"Please, conduct your test with the boy present. We don't want any interference," Zoh requested, his voice a blend of suspicion and cooperation.

"Everyone else, leave. I'll handle this," Zoh declared, as the other knights retreated to God's Palace, leaving only Saphir and the mage sentinel in the eerie, quiet aftermath.

In the enclosed space of the makeshift arena, the mage sentinel gently placed the unconscious boy on the ground. He extended his powers to create a purple cuboid around them. The silence was deafening, and both Saphir and the mage sentinel turned their attention to the boy, their emotions and intentions shrouded by their respective helmets.

The tension was palpable as they awaited the revelation of the boy's destiny, their fates intertwined in this pivotal moment. The world had irrevocably changed, and the emotional stakes were higher than ever.