Two minutes earlier, outside the Academy walls, the Capital's elite were failing.
The pitch-black dome covering the campus absorbed everything they threw at it. Duke Darian Solmere stood at the vanguard, his Platinum-Rank lightning crawling violently across the barrier's surface without breaking through. Beside him, Marquis Lancelot Raven, commander of the Capital's War-Mage Corps, directed a coordinated barrage from fifty Imperial battle-mages.
Flame, compressed wind, and concentrated gravity pounded the dark glass. The barrier simply rippled, drinking the kinetic energy and distributing it across its vast surface.
Darian swung his crackling broadsword, carving a deep fissure into the dome. A second later, dark mana surged into the wound, sealing it seamlessly. The Duke stepped back, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixed on the impenetrable wall separating him from his daughter.
"The structural integrity is cyclical," a voice said over the roar of the mages.
Darian turned.
