Chapter 143: The Wyvern’s Revenge

Vane moved through the service tunnel with the silence of a shadow. He did not look back at the flickering white gold light emanating from the refinery sector. The sound of Wyvern screeches was a rhythmic accompaniment to their footsteps. Valerica carried Mara. The girl was slipping into a deeper state of exhaustion. Vane could feel the heat radiating from Valerica. Her Starfire Aura was retracted but the core was still hot. It was a sun waiting to be unleashed.

They reached a junction where the mercury pipes branched into a massive chamber filled with silver fog. This was the Mercury Ponds. The air was thick and toxic. It shimmered with a mystical weight that distorted the senses. Vane reached out and touched the surface of a nearby iron pillar. He closed his eyes. He used Internal Pulse. He felt the vibration of the two Captains. They were close. They were no longer the arrogant hunters who had entered the groves. They were wounded and they were furious.

Vane pulled several crystalline shards from Mara’s pouch. He did not ask her to build anything this time. Her mind was too frayed. He took the shards and embedded them into the rusted metal of the floor. He used his own mana to bridge the gap between the shards. He was not creating a shield. He was creating a lens for a power he did not possess.

“Valerica. I need the Event Horizon,” Vane said.

Valerica hesitated. She looked at the narrow iron walkway. “Here? The space is too confined. The gravity will collapse the structural supports of the walkway.”

“That is the point,” Vane said. “I want you to anchor the gravity to these shards. Do not let the field expand. I want a localized point of absolute density right in the center of the path. We are not blocking them. We are inviting them to think.”

Valerica stepped forward. She focused her intent. Her violet hair seemed to float as her Authority flared. The Event Horizon manifested as a small and terrifying sphere of darkness. The iron walkway began to groan. The metal twisted as it was pulled toward the center of the gravity well. Vane did not stop there. He reached into the silver fog. He used his mana to manipulate the mercury vapor. He did not use the laws of physics. He used the concept of the Mercury Curse. He wove the toxic mist into the gravity well. The silver fog was pulled into the sphere of darkness. It formed a swirling and dense cloud of atomized poison.

To a normal man it was a barrier. To Kaelen and his Analytical Sight it would look like a massive and unstable mana core about to explode. It was a mystical lie told with the vocabulary of a Justiciar.

“We are moving through the lower vents,” Vane said. He grabbed his star metal spear. “They will see the gravity well and assume we are making a stand. Kaelen will analyze the density. He will tell Varkas to wait while he finds the flaw. He will spend his most precious resource trying to solve a puzzle that has no solution.”

They disappeared into the dark vents. Vane led them with a precision that suggested he had walked these halls in a thousand past lives. He knew every stress fracture in the iron. He knew every pocket of stagnant mana.

Minutes later Captain Varkas and Captain Kaelen arrived at the edge of the chamber. Varkas was a mess of charred armor and silver blood. His white gold aura was dim and ragged. He looked like a man who had spent an hour fighting a hurricane and lost. Kaelen was pristine but his face was pale. His violet eyes were glowing with a frantic and obsessive light.

“The rat is getting desperate,” Varkas spat. He looked at the swirling sphere of gravity and mercury. “He left his girl behind to block the path. I will crush her heart for this. I will burn her soul until there is nothing left but ash.”

“Wait,” Kaelen said. He raised his hand. His violet eyes scanned the sphere. “It is an Event Horizon. But look at the flow. The mercury is being fed by the pipes. It is a feedback loop. If you touch it the gravity will trigger a mana collapse. It is a suicide trap.”

Kaelen spent three minutes analyzing the sphere. He looked for the anchor points. He looked for the thread of mana that held the gravity together. He was a Justiciar. He prided himself on seeing the truth behind the trick. He believed his rank allowed him to look through the veil of the world. He finally found a small and flickering line of mana at the base of the iron pillar. He smiled. He reached out with his rapier and channeled a surge of precision mana to sever the connection.

The sphere did not collapse. It simply vanished.

The path was empty. There was no girl. There was no core. There was only a hollow iron pipe and a pile of broken glass shards. The gravity had been a facade. A trick of the light and a clever use of the environment.

“It was a ghost,” Kaelen whispered. His voice was filled with a sudden and sharp realization. “He used the mercury to mirror the signature. He made me waste my sight on a piece of trash. He made us wait while he gained the distance.”

“VANE!” Varkas roared. The sound echoed through the entire dungeon. It was a sound of absolute and unadulterated rage.

Varkas lunged forward. He ignored Kaelen’s warnings. He sprinted through the fog. But his movements were heavy. The Wyvern battle had taken its toll on his stamina. He was no longer a mountain. He was a man with a flickering shield. He was bleeding mana from a dozen small wounds.

Vane watched from a high ledge at the entrance of the central den. He could see the Justiciars through the mist. He could see the way Varkas’s aura was pulsing irregularly. The Captain was a Rank 5 but he was fighting in a Rank 4 world that did not obey his rules.

“One more step,” Vane said.

He reached down and touched the floor of the den. He did not use a skill. He used the Silver Fang. He sent a pulse of the law of rejection into the ground. He did not reject the stone. He rejected the silence. He rejected the peace of the den.

The ground began to shake. A massive and serpentine shadow rose from the central pool of mercury. The mother Hydra was awake. She was a monstrosity of iron scales and three heads that dripped with toxic silver. She did not see the “rats” hiding in the rafters. She saw the bright and offensive white gold light of Varkas’s aura. She saw the intruder who had brought fire into her home.

The Hydra let out a roar that shattered the remaining glass in the refinery.

“Now the real fight begins,” Vane said.

He looked at Valerica. She was ready. Her violet eyes were cold and focused. She was the Sun. And she was about to burn the two men who had dared to hunt her. Vane gripped his spear. He could feel the Silver Fang humming in his palm. The calculus was nearly complete. The two Justiciars were about to learn that in the dark of the groves rank was just a word.

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