NOVEL NEXT Vol 2. Chapter 8: I'd Kill You
The next few weeks passed in a blur.
Lukas threw himself into his studies, spending long hours in Magnus' office, scouring ancient tomes and listening to the old man's lessons on his greatest creation: the Written Language of Magic, Runes. He also began to understand the deeper layers of magic and how they could be applied to constructs, relics and artefacts.
A promise had been made. And Lukas had not forgotten it for a second. Magnus had began to teach him what he knew about magic. So Lukas kept his end of the bargain. He made noise this time. Louder than his assessment test had.
In a single day, Lukas climbed ten levels of the Magic Tower.
Each level presented its own challenge, its own guardian—a mage stationed there to halt the progress of the unworthy. Most climbers took weeks, months, even years to overcome each step.
Lukas cleared them like falling dominos. And during his duels with the Guardians of each level, he only used one spell: Generation and Control. The first ever spell that the Lady Kaitlyn had taught him. The spell that Rodan had forced him to master before all else. The foundation of the Divinity of the Seas.
Deceptively simple.
But Lukas wielded it with such overwhelming power, such fine-tuned mastery, that it was more than enough to defeat the Guardians of the First Ten Floors. Not a single time did a strike reach him and not a single time did his spells fall short.
The dragon thought of it as practice, getting the reps in so that he may return to the level of strength he knew himself capable of achieving. But as he climbed the Magic Tower, Lukas never once revealed the deeper waters of his Divinity of the Seas. Nor the gift that Styx had given him for completing the Trials of Kairos Castle. And that made him all the more dangerous.
Whispers spread like wildfire. The name Klein echoed through the halls of the Tower, from the dusty lecture rooms on the lower floors to the grand libraries of the Archmages on the upper levels.
They called him the most exponential climber the Tower had ever seen.
Because he was.
They had not seen a Mage quite like him in the history of the Tower's existence.
Letters flooded his quarters. Challenges. Invitations. Requests to join private circles and exclusive societies. Some offered mentorship, offering benefits that even the Head Mage would not provide him. Others promised knowledge, forbidden and secret. Few simply demanded a duel.
Lukas didn't bother opening a single one. Each time a new letter was delivered, he simply threw it into the fireplace without a second glance.
One afternoon, as he exited one of the great libraries of the Tower, a young man blocked his path. He didn't seem like a Mage of the Higher Floors but his posture oozed arrogance, his smile sharp and lazy like he already owned the conversation.
"Klein. It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance I am the personal apprentice of the Potion Master himself, Archmage Varian," the man drawled, his voice too loud, his entourage watching from a safe distance. "You've been ignoring our letters. Perhaps they never got to you?"
Lukas glanced past him, his expression unreadable. "They did. Just didn't bother to reply to them."
The man's smile twitched, but he pressed on. "My master would like to dine with you tonight. Surely, you understand this is not the sort of invitation one refuses."
Lukas started walking. "You can tell your master that I'm busy."
The man moved to block him again. "Busy with...what?"
Lukas didn't slow down. He brushed past him, smiling as he walked to exit the Tower.
"I'm going to pay my friend a visit."
The training yards of the palace rang with the sharp rhythm of footfalls and ragged breathing.
Lukas found her there, just as he'd expected.
Rosalia, cheeks flushed and body trembling, sprinted the length of the yard, sweat-soaked hair clinging to her skin. She'd already dropped to the ground twice. Both times, the woman beside her—the same Divine Knight who had once drawn her blade against Lukas—barked at her to rise.
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Celina. The holy warrior of the Church. The knight's voice cut like a whip through the air: "Again. Pushups. Now."
Rosalia collapsed into the dirt, arms shaking as she forced herself down and up in weak, desperate motions.
Celina offered no reprieve.
Lukas lingered at the edge of the courtyard, arms crossed, saying nothing. It wasn't his place to interfere.
He had been meaning to visit her for a while now. Between the lessons, the climbing, the endless challenges thrown his way at the Magic Tower, he'd let the days slip by. Lukas had figured that he could spare a day or two to visit the first friend he'd ever made in Easthaven.
Celina glanced once at Lukas then paid him no mind.
Rosalia gritted her teeth, moved to the pull-up bars, struggling for a single clean rep. She had not noticed Lukas, dedicating all that she could muster to her training. She was finished. Her body knew it. Her spirit refused to accept it.
Lukas' fists clenched, but he said nothing. It wasn't his place.
Rosalia's legs buckled. She lurched forward, falling to her knees, her breath ragged—and then it happened. She vomited violently into the dirt.
Still, Celina stepped forward, unyielding. "Stand. Now. If you want this, you push harder Rosalia."
Celina grabbed the Princess by the arm, pulling her upright as if the girl were nothing but a worn-out doll.
And before Lukas realized it, he had crossed the distance between himself and the Divine Knight. His hand shot out, wrenching Celina's grip away from Rosalia's arm with a force that made the knight stagger back a step.
The bounty hunter's voice was low, sharp, and cold. Enough to make Celina flinch.
"That's enough."
Celina's eyes flared, her stance tightening out of instinct. She hadn't seen him move—no, she couldn't have seen him move. That speed, that precision; she hadn't even been able to react until it was over. Celina had thought herself to be much faster than Lukas but it seemed that the Divine Knight's initial belief had been terribly misplaced.
For the first time, the Divine Knight seemed unsure of whether to draw her sword. "You have no right, Mage."
But Lukas wasn't listening. He had already let go of Celina's arm.
His gaze was on Rosalia—unconscious now, body limp from exhaustion, her breathing too shallow for comfort. He lifted her into his arms without hesitation. His back was already turned when he spoke again. Rosalia's breathing had steadied, but her body hung too heavily in his arms.
The princess needed rest. Water. Warmth.
But a shadow blocked his path.
Celina stood there, sword at her hip, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack bone.
"Know your place," she ordered, voice as heavy as stone. "You have no right to interfere. You may be Magnus' apprentice, but you are not her guardian. You have no say in how I train my disciple."
Lukas met her gaze, and for the first time, he didn't hide the storm in his eyes.
"I don't give a fuck about what you think is right. Divine Knights be damned." The words cut through the thick silence between them.
His arm tightened slightly around Rosalia, protective, resolute. The other, an eldritch horror that was covered by a long sleeve and gloves, stirring with ominous energy; the Kraken's magic roaring to life. Even in his dormant state, the Kraken was more than willing to lend his spells to carry out Lukas' biding.
Lukas had made a promise to the old man. He had sworn an oath on the River Styx. He swore on the name of the woman he loved that he would protect Rosalia Elarion. So that was what he would do.
Celina's brow twitched, her fingers trailing across the hilt of her blade.
"She chose this path."
"She came to you because she wanted to become stronger," Lukas bit back. "Not to be broken down. Rosalia is a child, Celina."
"You think you know what it takes?" Celina's anger flared now, the heat surging beneath her carefully honed discipline. "You think you understand what it means to stand as a Divine Knight? To protect this kingdom? You've been here for months. I have been here for years. Don't speak as if you know what's best for her."
Lukas took a step forward, his presence pressing against her like the swell of the sea before a storm. He knew there was no point in trying to use words to deescalate the situation.
"If you want to stop me then draw your blade."
Celina's breath hitched, her hand tightening on the hilt, but she didn't move. Not yet.
"You'd fight me?" The Divine Knight asked, incredulous, as if the words that came from Lukas' mouth were the embodiment of madness itself.
"I'd kill you." Lukas stated with finality.
There was no malice in his voice. No threat. Just cold, absolute conviction Because he would. He would kill her if it came to that. His oath demanded nothing less. And to be honest, Lukas was itching for a proper fight. One against a formidable opponent. As much as he disliked her, Celina fit the bill.
The concentration of magical intensity that exuded from Lukas, a combination of his own Divinity and the Kraken's, made it almost suffocating for the Divine Knight.
Finally Celina drew her blade, moving into a stance meant for battle.
Lukas had already healed from his wounds. He was not as strong as he wished to be but he was sure now, that he would put this Knight that the people said to be Divine six feet under.