The very air tightened around Draco as he coalesced a swirling vortex of wind elemental mana between his outstretched hands. 

There was no time for hesitation, no room for recklessness. 

A Level 4 adventurer against a Level 7 powerhouse like Alfia demanded more than brute force; it demanded cunning. 

His draconic instincts screamed for a direct, overwhelming assault, yet he suppressed them. 

A head-on power contest against Alfia, especially with his current limitations, would be suicide.

Ordinarily, confronting a mage in close quarters, forcing a physical engagement, was the most effective tactic. 

Alfia, despite her fearsome reputation, was fundamentally a magic-user. 

Her physical stats were, at best, those of a peak-Level 5 combatant, and her chronic illness further reduced that combat efficacy to a low Level 5 – perhaps even peak Level 4. 

A skilled close-range fighter could theoretically exploit this weakness.

However, fighting Alfia at close range was fraught with peril, particularly for individuals or races blessed with heightened senses. 

The more acute one’s hearing, the more devastating Alfia’s unique sound magic became. 

Adventurers experienced an enhancement of their senses with each level gained, which paradoxically meant Alfia was stronger against stronger opponents. 

It was a fact that bordered on the absurd, a broken mechanic in the grand design of power scaling. 

Furthermore, Alfia vastly surpassed Draco in raw magical output and potency. 

A single, direct hit from one of her serious full-blast sonic cannons would likely shatter his body into a million pieces, unless he was prepared to unleash a trump card he desperately wished to hold in reserve.

With a controlled surge, Draco unleashed the concentrated gale. 

It wasn't a mere gust, but a focused torrent, the wind sharpened to a cutting edge. 

It tore through the space separating them with a visceral whoosh, whipping up swirls of dust from the street and dislodging loose tiles and debris from the surrounding, buildings. 

This was not meant to inflict damage, but a probing, a warning shot made to gauge Alfia's reaction and maintain a critical distance.

Alfia, however, merely tilted her head, her expression unreadable, utterly unaffected by the biting wind. 

Her response was immediate and unnerving: a sudden, jarring burst of sound, not audible in the conventional sense, but a pure, concussive force. 

It slammed into Draco’s wind wall like an invisible battering ram, stripping its cohesion apart in an instant and sending a brutal shockwave rippling outwards through the very fabric of the street. 

The force was immense, threatening to rip the cobblestones from their beds, making the ground beneath Draco's feet tremble violently.

Draco braced himself, his draconic scales rippling with contained energy, a raw power held barely in check. 

The ground behind him churned as he instinctually conjured a dense earthen barrier, shaping it to shield Lyra and Kaguya. 

He could not, allow them to be exposed to such a force.

"How intriguing," Alfia's voice echoed through the vibrating air, cool and detached, as if dissecting a curious specimen. 

"To use magic without chant, yet such a crude display of control."

Then, a whisper, chillingly devoid of sound yet screaming inside Draco’s mind: ‘Lugio’. 

It felt like a direct assault on his nervous system, bypassing physical defenses entirely. 

Draco gritted his teeth, his draconic physiology granting him a measure of natural resistance, but the nauseating discomfort was undeniable, a phantom pressure building behind his eyes. 

He countered by channeling raw earth elemental energy into his own very form, creating a subtle, crackling aura of protective magic that subtly dampened the invasive sonic vibrations, like a thick blanket muffling a distant explosion.

He extended a hand again, and this time, a torrent of compressed air, laced with razor-sharp ice shards, screamed towards Alfia. 

It wasn’t a narrow, pinpoint attack, but a broad, sweeping arc to force her to fall back, to maneuver around, and crucially, to create a temporary, blinding screen. 

Alfia, however, seemed less to dodge and more to flow around the assault. 

Her body blurred, a phantom twin appearing momentarily at her side as she sidestepped the icy onslaught with impossible swiftness. 

The ice shards, denied their target, embedded themselves in the building behind her with sharp, cracking reports, leaving jagged pockmarks.

The street itself began to buckle and deform under the sheer weight of their clash. 

Alfia unleashed a series of localized sonic pulses, not single, devastating blasts, but rhythmic, targeted waves that sought to destabilize Draco’s defenses. 

He responded with lightning reflexes, rapidly shifting the very ground beneath him, conjuring momentary earthen structures and then collapsing them into troughs, transforming the once-flat street into a treacherous, undulating terrain. 

He was using the environment as an extension of his will, forcing Alfia to expend precious effort on movement, hoping to buy even a few precious seconds of respite.

His eyes darted briefly to Vito and Erebus, still observing from a distance. 

Draco’s entire strategy hinged on drawing Erebus into the periphery of the conflict, making him a perceived target. 

He couldn't risk using the full, devastating extent of his draconic abilities, particularly any wide-range attacks, as the collateral damage would be catastrophic for Lyra and Kaguya, still sheltered behind his earthen barrier. 

His elemental magic had to be small in scale, contained, precise.

Alfia, as if sensing his internal dilemma, pressed her advantage. 

She launched herself forward, her movements a silent blur, a phantom through the dust and chaos. 

As she closed the distance, the air around her seemed to become a pressurized zone, compressing everything in its path. 

Draco reacted instantly, unleashing a searing wave of fire, immediately followed by a torrent of water that instantly vaporized upon contact. 

The combination created a blinding, scalding steam cloud that billowed between them, another attempt to obscure her vision and deter her relentless advance.

But Alfia was not reliant on sight alone. 

The steam hissed and swirled, thick and scalding, yet her silent, menacing presence cut through it unimpeded. 

A low, guttural thrum resonated through the air, vibrating the very bones in Draco’s body, before a perfectly round, gaping hole appeared in the swirling steam cover, as if a cannonball had punched through it. 

It was a highly focused sonic attack, pinpoint and devastating.

Draco roared, a guttural, defiant sound that finally broke through the silent spell of Alfia’s magic. 

A burst of raw elemental power flared around him, solidifying the earthen wall he’d conjured earlier into a dense, pointy unyielding block of rock. 

A huge portion of the sonic force reflected harmlessly off the unyielding surface, though some still found its way through the ground, coursing through his body and leaving an unpleasant, numbing sensation in its wake.

"You waste your strength," Alfia's voice, now a chilling whisper that seemed to emanate from all directions, permeated the scalding steam, crawling into his mind. 

"Yield, and you can at least leave with your life."

Draco knew it was a lie, or at best, a conditional truth that would inevitably lead to their capture and imprisonment, or worse. 

He would not yield. 

He needed a stronger gambit, something that would breach Alfia’s iron control. 

With a sudden shift, he unleashed a concentrated blast of razor-sharp ice, not at Alfia herself, but towards the upper floor of the derelict building where Vito and Erebus still stood, oddly unmoving, seemingly content to watch Alfia crush him.

The icicles whipped past Erebus with an unnerving, high-pitched wail, scoured the stone facade, dislodging loose tiles and sending a shower of debris rattling down. 

It was a deliberate, calculated provocation, designed to make Alfia feel as though Erebus was directly threatened, to force a reaction, a break in her flawless composure.

Alfia hesitated. 

For a mere fraction of a second, her attention was visibly, pulled towards their direction.

It was all Draco needed.

With a surge of his magic, Draco unleashed a torrent of earth magic. 

The cobblestone street groaned, then buckled violently forward, a complex web of jagged fissures radiating outwards from him like a shattered pane of glass. 

These chaotic fractures raced directly towards Alfia, threatening to swallow the very ground beneath her feet. 

Simultaneously, from his outstretched claws, he conjured a rapid succession of fireballs, each no larger than a fist but intensely hot. 

He didn't aim to strike her directly, knowing the futility of such an attack, but rather directed them to explode around her periphery.

Each detonation produced a localized burst of blinding light, heat and a sharp, concussive sound, designed to disorient and overwhelm.

His strategy was clear: to assail her senses, to shatter her unnerving composure, and, most crucially, to restrict her movements. 

Draco understood the disparity in their magical abilities. 

Directly targeting Alfia with a magic attack inferior to hers was akin to throwing pebbles against a mountain; her unique magic would simply nullify the assault before it could even register. 

To genuinely harm her, one either had to possess magic of demonstrably superior potency to her own or an overwhelmingly greater physical might. 

In his current, base state, Draco possessed neither. 

Alfia, after all, was a Level 7 for a reason.

Her reaction was, as expected, instantaneous and fluid. 

She didn't attempt to dodge the splintering earth. 

Instead, a faint shimmer rippled around her as she seemed to absorb the ground's violent instability, transforming the chaotic vibrations into a localized "dead zone" of stillness. 

The very air around her seemed to hush, allowing her to glide unimpeded across the fractured, shifting street. 

Then, with a chilling precision, she unleashed her counter: a piercing sonic blast, a concentrated wave of pure concussive sound, aimed directly at Draco's defensive posture.

This time, Draco felt the full, devastating brunt of her power. 

The invisible force tore through his elemental shield, not merely bypassing but seemingly shredding the protective layer of concentrated energy he had erected. 

It bypassed his tough, draconic scales with an unnerving ease, striking his chest with the force of an armored battering ram. 

A low, guttural groan escaped his lips as he staggered back, his broad shoulders slamming into the reinforced earth barrier behind him, which splintered and cracked under the unexpected impact. 

He knew then that maintaining distance was a losing battle if she was willing to take such risks. The immense strain of containing his magic, of fighting so defensively while a Level 7 pressured him relentlessly, was beginning to show. 

His breathing grew ragged, each inhale a struggle, and his precious magic reserves were draining with alarming speed.

He risked a glance at Erebus. 

The enigmatic god remained stoic, utterly unmoving, seemingly impervious to the violent skirmish raging mere feets away. 

Draco gritted his teeth, a flicker of resolve igniting in his eyes. 

He needed a stronger incentive, a more compelling reason for them to disengage.

With a surge of his magic energy, Draco concentrated an immense amount of earth magic into a single, compact point in front of him. 

The very ground beneath their feet groaned in protest, and with a deafening roar, a massive, jagged spire of dark rock erupted from the street. 

It was colossal, raw, and imbued with potent magic. 

Too slow to ever strike Alfia, its true purpose was to serve as an enormous, impassable barrier, blocking her direct line of sight and forcing her to either expend significant energy to destroy it or waste precious seconds circumnavigating its immense bulk.

As the spire pierced the sky, momentarily eclipsing the sun, Draco himself moved with desperate speed. 

He retreated back to the small, protective dome of earth he had created for Lyra and Kaguya, then channeled a vast, uncontrolled amount of wind and ice magic simultaneously. 

He wasn't aiming at Alfia directly this time. 

Instead, he conjured a wide, rapidly expanding vortex of freezing, howling wind and razor-sharp ice shards that swiftly began to envelop the entire street and the buildings lining it. 

This elemental tempest swept not just towards Alfia, but, crucially, towards the spot where Vito and Erebus stood. 

It was an uncontrolled, widespread assault, the kind he had diligently tried to avoid throughout the encounter, but now it couldn't be helped. 

He was creating a massive, chaotic elemental screen – a literal 'fog of war' – designed to buy him crucial seconds and obscure his imminent escape.

Seeing the uncontrolled elemental maelstrom bearing down on them, Alfia reacted instantly. 

The air around her shimmered with an intensified energy, and a low, resonant hum, barely audible at first, began to emanate from her body, rapidly escalating in pitch and intensity until it vibrated through the very air. 

This was her counter, the partial manifestation of her second magic—a force that seemed to nullify the elemental chaos around herself.

The two forces collided, the raw, destructive power of sound against the swirling, biting fury of wind and ice. 

The street was filled with the cacophony of destruction: the tearing sound of air being ripped apart, the groaning protest of stone under immense pressure, and the piercing, escalating hum of Alfia’s magic.

At that precise moment, a distant, piercing alarm blared, cutting through the din from the direction of Orario Central Plaza. 

It was followed almost immediately by the faint yet unmistakable sound of rapidly approaching footsteps and urgent shouts. 

Reinforcements.

Draco’s eyes, wide with a flicker of joy, locked onto the figures of Lyra and Kaguya huddled within the earthen sanctuary. 

This was his chance, the fleeting window he had fought to create. 

With a final, agonizing surge of his magic, he pushed his elemental storm outwards, focusing his remaining will on creating a narrow, temporary path. 

The chaotic elemental wind and ice expanded just enough to momentarily engulf Alfia, keeping her fully occupied with her counter-nullification, creating a fleeting, precious opening.

‘Now!’ Draco roared internally, his powerful talons sweeping up both Lyra and Kaguya in a single, swift motion. 

Without a moment's hesitation, he launched himself into the air, beating his massive wings with all his power. 

He needed to cover a vast distance quickly, to escape the range of Alfia’s magic before she could unleash another devastating counter.

As the tempestuous elemental storm began to dissipate, the air clearing around them, Erebus broke the silence with a soft, amused chuckle. 

“Well, that was rather thrilling, wasn’t it?” he mused, his gaze following the rapidly diminishing speck that was Draco soaring into the sky.

Vito, however, was less amused. 

“My lord, you are entirely too whimsical,” he stated, his tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “They got away.” He paused, then added, “You knew you could become a target, yet you insisted on remaining within the immediate vicinity of the…battle.”

Erebus merely smiled, a faint, almost childlike curiosity in his eyes. 

“Indeed, Vito. I was merely curious to see if he would abandon them to save himself. But this… this was surprising. His abilities are far greater than I initially perceived, and I have a distinct impression he was holding back even more. What do you think, Alfia?”

Alfia, already turning her back on the chaos, strode purposefully towards the church where she had been previously residing. 

“So noisy,” she muttered dismissively, her voice low, ignoring Erebus’s question entirely.

“Guess she must be rather pissed off with the situation,” Vito observed, watching her retreating back.

“Maybe,” Erebus replied, a subtle, knowing glint in his eyes. “But for some reason, she seems a bit… happy.”

“Happy, huh!” Vito muttered, glancing once more in the direction Draco had flown, his silhouette now completely vanished against the distant horizon. 

“By the way, my lord,” Vito continued, changing the subject, “the adventurers are almost here. Do you still insist on continuing your stroll?”

“My dear Vito,” Erebus replied, his voice laced with gentle amusement, “you already know the answer to that, so why ask?”

Vito could only let out a deep, resigned sigh, falling into step behind his enigmatic lord, who remained intent on his casual search for Ryuu.