Zeke’s eyes were grave as he observed the distant fight.
He watched as the treants fell one by one. He watched as Rhea flailed, desperately trying to strike her enemies. He watched as wounds piled across her body and the ground grew slick with her blood.
And yet, he did not act. It was not out of callousness, nor because he lacked the will. It was because he did not dare to. Acting too early would ruin everything. Every drop of blood she spilled would be wasted if the ploy ...
If she did not know any better, she would have said she was nervous. But could that be possible? Her? Nervous? Facing a bunch of puny humans?
Though she was still young, she was a Titan. How could a Titan fear the likes of them, with their frail bodies and insincere hearts? Even so, several spots on her body itched with phantom pain, a cruel reminder of the many wounds she had suffered during their previous encounters.
He straightened, posture rigid, expression cold and distant, the faint trace of something regal settling over his features. When he spoke, it was not to the prince, but to the ten Archmages seated along the chamber’s sides.
“I sentence all of you to forced labor.”
The words fell like a blade.
No preamble. No justification. Spoken with the finality of a royal decree, as if the verdict itself needed no defense.
Even the faint pitter-patter of footsteps coming from beyond the broken door seemed to vanish in that moment. It was as if the entire world was holding its breath at his audacity.
I alone am enough to face all ten of you.
When had there ever been a Grandmage so bold? Not ten against one, but one against ten.
It was an insult beyond any other. A direct slap to all their faces.
Even so, Zeke, the one who had uttered such bra...
Zeke’s steps did not slow, no matter who called out to him or what they said, nor did he ask for directions.
He already had a rough understanding of the palace layout, and the place he was heading for lay at its very center. It appeared to be a large audience chamber, and it was also where he could sense Raileh’s mental signature.
Before long, he reached a massive gate. Its size served no purpose other than to emphasize the importance of the chamber beyond. Not that ther...
Zeke’s gait was slow. He wandered the streets without direction. His thoughts lingered on the information Cassius had relayed to him.
The prince ruling this place was named Edras, the third son of the Queen of Rukia. He had been placed in charge of the sanctuary at the start of the war and, as a result, had not taken part in a single battle.
According to Cassius, nearly all of Edras’s knowledge of how the Ehrenlegion operated came from the "refugees" who had found their way to...
Zeke's senses extended outward, searching. Though he could not perceive much, it was still better than moving blindly. His feet carried him down the central road toward the heart of the settlement.
For a while, his search remained fruitless. Then, at last, he sensed something. A familiar presence. It was a vague feeling, almost drowned out by the mana trees, but not completely.
He followed the sensation through the winding streets, past structures that grew increasingly intricate ...
The scar carved by the Legion ended without ceremony.
One moment, the path lay before them—trampled earth and splintered stumps stretching toward the horizon. The next, it simply stopped. Beyond that line, the forest stood as it had for centuries, untouched and dense with undergrowth that would have swallowed a lesser group whole.
Zeke studied the boundary for a long moment. The Legion had not stopped here by choice. Something had halted their advance. Whether it was resistance,...
Zeke had the Alexandria follow the treeline, holding back from diving into the verdant depths of the vast forest.
According to the information Irisen had provided, it was impossible to locate the sanctuary from the air. If that were not the case, the Wind Mages of the Ehrenlegion would have discovered it long ago. Even without that warning, Zeke would not have tried to search for it blindly.
Gazing out over the endless sea of trees, he could see nothing out of the ordinary. ...
After his success at Prison Camp #82, Zeke struck twice more using the same tactics. Not even two full days had passed by the time he raided the third prison, leaving the Legion's high command no time to devise countermeasures.
The relentless pace put a tremendous strain on Irisen, who could barely recover her strength between assaults. Even so, she did not complain and seemed to grow more eager with each victory.
Zeke returned to his senses a moment later, finally grasping the meaning behind Akasha's words. By then, the Alexandria had already resumed its advance.
The sudden turn of events raised many questions in his mind. Still, he held them back, knowing he would see the answers for himself in a moment.
As expected, he soon felt the siege protocols of the Alexandria take hold as the space around him grew heavy. It was the unmistakable sensation of the Space Lock activating. At the same t...
The Alexandria drifted through the night like a silent specter, and not even the air was disturbed by her passing. Even if an army had been stationed below, no one would have sensed anything out of the ordinary.
Not that it mattered.
Under normal circumstances, there might have been some travelers about, but the narrow mountain paths were completely deserted now. No merchants frequented them anymore. No wanderers moved from town to town.
"One hundred and seventeen individuals have been extracted from prison camp seventy-three. One hundred and two with augmented ears, and fifteen who were still held in isolation cells."
A small frown crept onto Zeke's face at the numbers. Out of more than a hundred people, fewer than twenty were actual prisoners. All the others had been, in one way or another, complicit in running that place.
After reading the comments on my last chapter, I’ve decided to make a small adjustment.
You were right to point out that the final sentence felt off. It came across as needlessly blunt and clashed with the carefully built tone of the scene.
What has changed?
Not much. Simply disregard the final sentence of the previous chapter. The chapter now ends like this:
Zeke studied her in silence. Her loyalty was admirable. Truly, the loya...
The sound intensified, deep and powerful, like a blacksmith hammering away at a block of iron. With every reverberation, David’s expression grew more serious.
"...Was it truly wise to send Raileh away, young lord?"
Zeke shook his head. "We are not trying to pick a fight. Besides, I have the utmost confidence in your ability to protect me if it comes to that."
David turned his gaze back to the trembling prison and gave a wry smile. "I will do my best..."
Yet, Zeke did not move. He did not explode into action, nor did he order his people to attack... except for one.
Slowly, the blond-haired figure began to sway, then fell forward. The Mind Mage, who had stood on the opposite side of the room, collapsed without even trying to brace the fall. Their body hit the floor like a sack of grain. A thin wound at the back of their head became visible.
It was an incision no wider than a finger. The cause beca...
[Notice] The target location will come into view at any moment.
Zeke’s gaze sharpened, his eyes scanning the distant horizon.
This was the moment of truth. His entire strategy, his entire plan, hinged on his ability to raid this prison. If he could not overcome its defenses, then everything he had worked toward would collapse.
His eyes locked onto the distant structure slowly coming into view. It was underwhelming, to say the least.
"Why are you moving so slowly?" The command was punctuated by a shove, not the first one Khaelryn had received on their short trek up the stairs.
Again and again, he lowered his head and quickened his pace. Unease coiled in his chest with every step that took him farther from the life he had come to know. This was not part of his plan, not part of his careful strategy.
Everything he had worked toward over the past weeks had gone up in smoke the moment that young guard recognized h...
The meal was awful. A slimy soup with a few clumps of hardened bread, slop barely better than what pigs would eat.
Khaelryn devoured it as if it were a feast.
In the two weeks since his release from the darkness, he had never once regretted his choice. His new life was one of contentment. Not only did he get to see the sun almost every day, he even had the freedom to speak to people whenever he pleased... at least during the few minutes at night after his duties ended.
That was all Khaelryn could see. Or would it be more accurate to say could not see?
He sighed deliberately. Not to express his feelings; there was nobody here to hear it anyway. It was simply to break the numbing monotony.
It was so very different from what he had expected. When the Empire had taken him and his wife, he had prepared himself for a cruel fate. Torture, perhaps. A public execution. But certainly not this.
Zeke's finger slid across the eastern reaches, past Thalebrook, past Gwyrel Ford, and past a dozen more settlements before stopping deep within the inland.
"...This."
Linus and Morris, standing to his left, both leaned closer to see the exact point he had chosen. Their expressions shifted the moment they recognized it.
"This... young lord, that is a Legion stronghold," Linus pointed out carefully.
"That is a blatant lie!" an elderly woman exclaimed. "I have seen what you can do. With the forces gathered here, it would be a piece of cake to take Thalebrook, maybe even Gwyrel Ford."
"...To what end?" Linus asked. "They have no strategic value."
Zeke listened quietly. He had called several key figures among his allies to his study to discuss their next steps. But ever since the leaders of the newly rescued half-elves had arrived, the arguing had not stopped.
The pillow sailed across the room, struck the door, and dropped to the floor.
Pitter patter, pitter patter.
Her tired eyes cracked open and drifted to the small window. The sky was still dark. What was it now? What had these lunatics in such a frenzy this early in the morning?...
Zeke watched the pitiful sight of the once high and mighty Fire Mage rolling in the dirt, desperately trying to avoid another strike from his blind spot. Ungraceful as it was, the maneuver worked—Elder Tiger sailed past without landing a hit. Zelkara, however, had been waiting for exactly that dodge.
Her spear didn’t pierce deeply, but it carved another shallow cut into the man’s nearly indestructible body.
The words had barely registered when David caught a flicker of movement. Even with the sharpened senses of an Archmage, he could hardly follow the streak that flashed past. It moved like a bolt of lightning, reaching its target in the space between heartbeats.
The Feuerkranz Mage reacted instantly, raising both arms in defense. Metal bracers caught the descending tip of the massive pole...
David’s breath came ragged, the smoke and ash burning his throat with every inhale.
How foolish. How arrogant.
The mere fact that he had asked his young lord why he hadn’t been ordered to kill the enemy Mage now felt like a slap to his own face.
His gaze locked onto the walking inferno before him. Flaming red hair, gently illuminated by a regal crown of docile flames. A man standing in the heart of an inferno with the ease of someone out for a stroll.
Zelkara kicked off the ground, the world turning into a blur. She did not hold back—something about the man before her told her this fight required seriousness.
The distance between them vanished. Zelkara already pictured her spear carving into his neck. He was late in his defense; the flames in his hands had only begun to rise when she was nearly upon him.
But just before she could draw blood, the earth itself responded.
A thick slab of stone burst upward, blocking her...
Several rows of shield-wielding soldiers in heavy armor marched at the front, followed by a line of robed humans whose hands glowed with arcane power. These were their targets—the ones turning the forest to ash.
Zelkara spotted them from afar. The light of the burning trees illuminated their formation, and they allowed it willingly. It was the mark of a predator so confident that they no longer deemed it necessary to hide from anything.
