"The Hebeian Republic executes four 'Class S' mages (based on the Republic's mage grade scale) or 1st class mages under the Association's grading scale. North Hebei has accused these mages of utilizing 'inhumane, cruel, and odd' spells against thousands of their soldiers. Currently, the CFN is estimated to have captured at least ten to twenty 1st class mages, who are held in unknown high-security black sites. South Hebeian and Asanaian Intelligence Agencies have warned that many of these mages are at risk of being executed or used by the CFN to perform cruel human experiments. The Association however made no comments about these developments, possibly to continue their claimed 'neutrality' in worldly politics."

- Geopol Press

+++

West Orland

Duchy of Rimwurz

November Palace

February 22, 2026

Amelie…didn't like the Global Magic Association. Not that it was out of something political, but out of spite.

She could still vividly remember the tests she had to conduct as the Kingdom's Princess back when she was sixteen when her mother insisted on seeing what class of mage Amelie would become. That was the most grueling three months Amelie went through, where she poured hours memorizing and conceptualizing spells, practicing them, and trying her best to perform self-defense magic, combat magic, and even simple practical tests for civilian spells.

She was beaten multiple times and humiliated so badly that to this day, she refuses to study and train with magic a lot.

In the end, after a week of tests, she received her grade from the GMA—after she had to do practical training in the frigid Lieplatzan north.

A meagre 4th class certification.

To this day, Amelie remained a 4th class mage based on their international certification standards. Certainly not that low on the ladder of things. She could do a lot of things, but that was a major sting to her ego as the Princess of Orland. In her own mother's words, she was, quite literally, the only woman in the Ludendorf Household who was heir apparent to the throne and wasn't at least a 3rd class Mage.

To cope, she still blamed the Global Magic Association for it. 'They focus too much on combat magic,' she excused. 'They used the wrong tests', she cried to her mother. 'Why isn't the theoretical and the academic tests more important?', she whined to her classmates.

Looking at the folder she was holding, alongside the seal printed on the top right corner reminded her of that humiliation.

"And they dare to approach me after all that?" the irate Amelie groaned at her desk. "Maybe I'll reconsider if they grovel before me and give me a better certification."

"Oh come on, stop with the melodrama," Nia crossed her arms, annoyed. "I can't believe you still hold a grudge against them. Let it pass. There's a big war going on."

"Those proctors must have sabotaged me, how can I not resent them?" Amelie asked, almost like a child at this point. "I'm very convinced that I'm at least a 3rd class Mage. There's no other way. I mean, sure, I'm not as good as Mother and…and other Queens, but I can do something, right? William can confirm that."

Amelie looked at William. He seemed like he was mindlessly shuffling documents on a table he occupied in her office.

"William," Amelie called out again, trying to stack up some people to her side.

"Yeah?"

"I can do magic right?"

"Sure."

"See," Amelie turned to Nia. "He agrees."

William seemed like he merely answered yes to keep the peace. His reply was barely even enthusiastic. Nia sighed.

"...You know, if you're so convinced you're a good mage after not training or studying magic for years, you can always take another certification exam."

"Not in wartime I can't!"

"Such a convenient excuse," Nia rolled her eyes. "Anyhow, just read it. It's very urgent. I swear, it's always the random nonsense that gets you all riled up."

Amelie gritted her teeth, as she opened the folder. Why were they even doing this? She wondered about that a lot. Their official stance in this great war, just like with all wars before, was that it was 'beneath them'. It was quite the natural type of response from an organization controlled by the creme de la creme of 1st class mages.

People like Marie or in Amelie's Alpha Squad weren't the most common kind. Most truly ascendant mages couldn't care less if there was a big war going on—that was a problem for the unwashed masses and the ruling elite. She barely even bothered giving a crap about these people when the revolutions happened, because usually, they had enough power and wealth anyway to just move out of harm's way, or harm itself would never approach them.

After all, even the CFN and the rudimentary arcane technology they employ here and there to counter true magic would barely even touch these people. The only thing they had was superior firepower. That wasn't a tool that worked all the time.

So what even is their deal?

She read the passages on the documents inside. As Amelie read it, her eyes moved faster and faster. 1st class mages volunteering in royalist armies and getting captured. Mages minding their own business are being targeted and arrested by proficient kill teams. The list went on. It ended with a simple note.

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'We demand both parties to cease involving us in your short-term squabbles and to release our valued peers with 1st class mage certification who are full members of the Association. If they have violated the principles of the Association, then it is up to us and only us to punish them.'

"How utterly arrogant of them," Amelie narrowed her eyes. "What is this, an insult? Did they send the same thing to the CFN?"

"Yep, they did," William finally spoke up. "They want their 1st class mages out of the CFN's detention. Pretty wild, but…we all know they consider their most respected peers as under their little clique."

"So they want me to help free them but they won't help me in the war effort?" Amelie indignantly asked. "Now they're just pushing it. I get that it sucks for these mages who have been captured, but this is war. The way they think is so out of touch. They even want…preferential rescue missions. Why can't they do that themselves?"

"I presume this might be because of the presence of the Restoration League recently," William calmly analyzed. "We've been hearing reports of these two groups bumping a lot lately in the background. We don't notice it since it doesn't affect the greater war itself, unless of course if the Restoration League is crippled, but…the Restorationists seem like they're putting a lot of fear in their minds, so they can't conduct rescue missions as normal."

"...Have they tried?"

"Twice, both successful. One at a black site in North Hebei, and another in North Lieplatz. We don't have clear details, outside of the aftermath. Both black sites, as expected, were heavily damaged and destroyed. However, both incidents involved the presence of Restorationist agents after CFN forces were destroyed," William shrugged. "That's what the RIU managed to glean from them."

"...Marie never informed me of this."

"Again, probably because it's not a major detail yet for the war, and things are too blurry. When we investigate the Restoration League, we investigate how they act against us and how they interact with the CFN, not with the GMA."

Amelie breathed out. The Global Magic Association was one of the major neutral third parties of the war, so of course no one would touch them. While officially, all mages who were a full member of the Association were under the laws of the nations they lived in, unofficially, they were under the laws of the Association.

This kind of arrangement was done because touching them meant you would have an estimated two thousand walking nukes around that would torch your state. Of course, none of these mages technically could actually pull that off—a nation-state was still supreme in terms of the power it could wield…but again, the trouble they could bring was too high to be worth countering.

They're such a headache. I bet they sent this so that I'll put pressure on the CFN to leave them alone like us.

If only these people simply woke up instead and sided with the MN fully, then Amelie might consider it. But as it stands, there was no way for her to do anything about this. Therefore, with a frown, she began typing something on her laptop.

"What are you doing?" Nia asked, as Amelie rapidly pressed key after key.

"Check this response letter and get it sent to them before nightfall," Amelie said. "If they want something from me, then they better stop the outdated arrogant act and just formally join me at least."

"You know that's not happening, you know?"

"Then they can suck the problem of their certified mages dying."

"How cruel of you."

+++

Federal Republic of Orland

State of Wuringen

President Sullivan Rimpler walked through the gathering hall of a training base near Eirhow City. He calmly went for the podium, before facing a group of around four hundred men in front of him. All of them, right now, were in their full standard tactical gear.

They wore heavy kevlar suits, designed primarily to resist blast and incendiary magic. In addition, they had masks and gas masks to protect them from dust/gas-based magical irritants. Each one of them was armed with the most advanced helmet of the republic, complete with sets of headphones, speakers, and attached four-eyed night vision goggles.

They were all also armed with heavy assault rifles—all high-powered. Many carried with them a hodgepodge of MANPADS and MANPATS. They were mostly veterans and elites from the broken and run-down units of the Army, reconstituted constantly into these small mobile battalion teams.

They were the newly-raised 174th Special Task Force, just another battalion of men trained to counter a new growing threat on the battlefield: 1st class mages who had full Association membership. It was something that Sullivan had expected to become a major issue since the start of the war, but only now did it start truly ramping up.

Many were now breaking their oaths of neutrality in conflict by joining the MN. No, they weren't the usual kind of powerful 2nd or 1st class mages who technically qualified to become full members but refused to join the Association proper because they wanted to serve their Queen and country, no, they were full Association members.

Soon, I bet the bastards will break their principles and join the royalists. That's to be expected of them.

"Gentlemen," Sullivan spoke up. "I know, many of you are from the previously defunct 171st, 172nd, and 173rd Special Task Forces, and others are from other fallen regular army brigades, but now, you are still here—as survivors."

It was, of course, a grim reminder to them. That was quite literally three battalions of these special task forces burned in the last three weeks. While the Royalist Army refused to recruit Association members due to their 'unprofessional and unpredictable nature', a lot of these free mages were now serving unofficially, like vigilantes.

So far, they only killed three of them and captured one. In exchange, nearly four hundred soldiers died countering these vigilantes. Around half of that number ended up in the WIA or MIA lists.

"We have a growing threat in our hands. We're still testing out new and improved tactics and equipment to counter this. Of course, this is a difficult task, and we expect it to get worse as more of these powerful mages join the enemy's side. They aren't like the normal ones after all. They are harder to fight. Tougher. They have overwhelming magic at their hands, and they will eviscerate you at the wrong twitch.

"But we have something they don't. These proud Association members, who threaten the alliance out of arrogance, live their lives believing they are above a mortal's blow. Their guts and tolerance to defeat is low."

Sullivan grinned, confident at his words.

"So don't lose hope yet. We just need to keep coming back, countering them, and inflicting casualties. If a hundred of you die for each of them, remember, there are only a few hundred of them at most with the guts to even step onto the battlefield. Once we prove to them that they are not untouchable, just like how we drove terror to normal women, we too shall drive that fear into the hearts of the Association."

The men roared in applause. They ached for a fight. They wanted revenge. They wanted to charge in at these arrogant, recluse, and enigmatic foes. Why? Because for every hundred men lost, for every hundred brothers lost in the fight, the sweet revenge of killing a single 1st class mage, whose value was hard to quantify, was going to be cathartic.

Revenge and gritty victory. That was what these men wanted, trained for, and fought for—and the same thing Sullivan would offer them.

"So do your best. It appears that we now have eight of them operating unofficially for the Queen's side. Kill them, capture them, it doesn't matter—you will make them fear us."

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