Chapter 167: His Bleeding Shield

Lucian stepped forward and pressed the sharp edge of his steel dagger against the director’s throat, preparing to end the man’s life and remove the internal threat from the board permanently.

Marius saw the lethal intent in the noble’s eyes.

He possessed the survival instinct of a cornered rat, and since he knew he lacked the physical strength to fight back, he chose spite instead.

Marius grabbed his dark wooden cane from the floor with his uninjured left hand.

He did not aim the kinetic blast at Raziel or Lucian, but pointed the magic straight at the ancient silver runes glowing on the brick wall right behind Zorya’s desk.

“Die with the temple!” Marius screamed.

VMMMM!

The concentrated kinetic force exploded from the tip of the cane.

CRACK.

The heavy blast shattered the center of the brick wall, fracturing the ancient silver runes into useless, dead sparks.

The structural integrity of the localized node broke completely.

Lucian drove the pommel of his dagger directly into the side of the director’s head.

The heavy metal connected with a brutal thud, and Marius collapsed onto the floor unconscious.

But the damage was already done.

Zorya screamed from the wooden chair because the architectural counter-shield relied on the physical foundation of the room to anchor the magic.

The sudden destruction of the geometric lines disrupted the flow of her unchained mana.

BZZT!

The massive silver dome protecting St. Celeste flickered violently as the light dimmed and sputtered.

The barrier dropped another ten feet and allowed the red digital static to surge forward into the main courtyard.

“I lost the anchor!” Zorya yelled over the humming noise.

Thick red blood poured out of both her nostrils and coated her chin while her silver eyes widened.

“The deletion code is pushing through!”

Raziel felt the catastrophic drop in pressure through their permanent bond.

He felt the massive weight of the Silencer artifact crushing her mind, and he felt the cold, unrendered gray voids eating the physical grass outside.

He needed to fix the broken anchor, but he lacked the time to draw a new geometric sequence on the shattered bricks.

He looked down at his own left arm, where the wound from the crossbow bolt still bled through the torn fabric of his dark cloak.

He grabbed the iron dagger from his belt with his right hand.

“Gideon! Lucian!” Raziel ordered and stepped toward the wooden desk.

“Get back to the surface! Hold the courtyard and keep the Inquisitors away from the administrative doors!”

“We are not leaving you down here bleeding!” Lucian shouted back.

“You cannot fight that!” Raziel yelled. “Go!”

Lucian gritted his teeth and grabbed Gideon by the shoulder, and the noble and the street thug sprinted out of the ruined workshop.

Raziel dropped to his knees right next to Zorya’s chair and placed his bare left hand flat against the cold stone floor near the shattered wall.

He needed to provide raw fuel to sustain a dying system.

He activated the fifth Forbidden Gift.

Anchor Blood.

He gripped his iron dagger tight and dragged the sharp edge across his own left forearm.

SHIING.

He sliced a deep, jagged line through his flesh from his elbow straight down to his wrist.

Hot red blood welled up from the fresh wound and spilled onto the stone tiles in a heavy stream.

He burned his own physical blood as a highly volatile catalyst.

The veins on his arm flared with blinding gold and black light.

An intense, boiling heat rushed into his chest and spiked his core temperature.

The pain hit his nervous system with brutal force, but he ignored the agony and focused entirely on the output.

He used the raw fuel to amplify the Bond Forging tether connecting his mind to Zorya’s consciousness, boosting the connection by three times its base capacity.

He did not just send her emotional support this time; he pushed his amplified, burning mana directly into her core to replace the broken wall anchor.

“Take it!” Raziel shouted over the noise of the failing shield.

Zorya gasped and arched her back in the wooden chair when the massive surge of raw power hit her mana channels and forced her eyes wide open.

The veins of liquid silver ink covering her hands flared with blinding intensity.

She slammed her palms harder against the stone slate and forced the architectural magic to accept the new power source.

VMMMM!

The silver dome above the academy stopped flickering.

The light stabilized and pushed back with three times the kinetic force, expanding outward and shoving the red digital static entirely out of the main courtyard.

The barrier anchored itself to the boiling blood spilling from Raziel’s arm.

“The shield is holding!”

Zorya yelled as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“I have the perimeter back!”

Raziel stayed on his knees and kept his bleeding arm pressed against the floor, feeding the magic of his own life force to keep the dome alive.

The physical cost of burning his blood hit him immediately.

His vision swam while his muscles cramped and shook from severe exhaustion.

The safe limit for Anchor Blood was two hundred milliliters per use, and he already burned past that threshold in the first sixty seconds.

The blue interface materialized in his blurry vision, and the screens flashed with urgent red warnings.

[CRITICAL ALERT: SEVERE BLOOD LOSS DETECTED.]

[PHYSICAL STAMINA: 15%.]

[RECOMMENDATION: TERMINATE ANCHOR BLOOD IMMEDIATELY.]

Raziel gritted his teeth and dismissed the warnings because he refused to break the connection.

If he pulled his arm away from the floor, Zorya lost the amplified power and the shield collapsed instantly.

He listened to the heavy, continuous hum of the silver dome above them and heard the distant shouts of Lucian and Gideon fighting the elite Inquisitors in the courtyard.

He kept bleeding.

A sharp, violent tremor shook the East Basement.

BOOM!

The heavy iron door of the workshop groaned under a massive kinetic blow.

The metal bent inward and the hinges screeched against the brick wall.

Raziel turned his head and looked at the door.

His vision blurred and his breathing hitched because his stamina sat at fifteen percent and he lacked the physical strength to stand up and fight.

BOOM!

A second blow hit the iron.

The heavy door ripped off its hinges and crashed onto the dusty tiles.

Ten elite Inquisitors stepped into the dim light of the basement.

They wore heavy silver breastplates and carried long steel halberds, their boots crunching on the broken iron.

Raziel knelt on the floor with his arm sliced open, completely drained of stamina, and stared at the ten executioners blocking the only exit.

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