Chapter 434: Finding Their Gate

The sky above Delwig’s outskirts burned a dim copper.

Arielle led the small party through the Verdant Verge—a woodland dozens of miles away from Delwig that had once been lush, now half-charred and silent. Every few steps, her boots crushed brittle ferns or cracked through blackened roots.

Beside her walked Lyone, alert but visibly tense, and behind them, Captain Veyne, a man built like a fortress with a single scar dragging from his jaw to his collarbone. His presence was quiet but heavy; the sort of soldier who spoke little but saw everything.

Overhead, Aquila glided low, its golden plumage catching stray beams of sunlight that pierced through the grey haze. The griffin’s keen eyes swept across the ravine ahead, where faint traces of essence shimmered—like heat mirages on cold air.

“This is where the readings fade,” Veyne muttered, consulting a small essence detector strapped to his forearm. “Whatever came through here didn’t linger long.”

Arielle didn’t answer immediately. She closed her eyes and focused, letting her own essence stretch outward.

There—soft ripples in the mana currents, rhythmic and deliberate. Not natural flow. Not random. Patterned.

Her eyes snapped open. “Something’s wrong. The ground—”

The earth answered her before she could finish.

Brrrrrr…

A deep rumble shuddered beneath their feet, then fractured violently as chunks of dirt and stone erupted upward.

From the ruptures lunged wolf-like creatures, their forms sculpted from earth and tangled root, glowing with veins of pale blue essence.

“Mana beasts!” Lyone shouted, raising his short blade.

Kreeeeei!!

Aquila screamed—a piercing, avian roar—and took to the air. The gust of wind from its wings slammed into the front line of creatures, scattering them like leaves.

But the beasts recovered fast. One twisted mid-air, reforming even before it struck the ground, soil and bark knitting back into a snarling head. They weren’t corrupted. Their essence was clean, undistorted—pure elemental life.

But still, they were deadly.

Arielle reacted first, golden light blooming across her skin as she summoned her weapon—a whip of radiant energy that coiled around her wrist like sunlight caught in motion.

With a flick, it lashed forward, slicing through the first beast. It exploded into a rain of dirt and glowing fragments, but the shards immediately slithered back together.

“Don’t let them reform!” she called.

Lyone darted beside her, his strikes sharper and more controlled than before. His swordsmanship had improved—Damien’s influence showing through in his precision.

The captain backed them up with brute force, his hammer infused with grounding essence that shattered two of the smaller beasts outright.

Aquila dove again, wind trailing its talons as it slammed into the largest of the pack. The forest trembled under the impact. The griffin’s feathers shimmered with layered sigils, each one glowing brighter as it tore the creature apart.

But they kept coming. Every time a beast fell, another emerged from beneath the soil. Arielle moved like lightning, her whip cutting luminous arcs through the haze.

Lyone stumbled once, catching a strike against his arm before rolling aside. Aquila shifted its trajectory instantly, sweeping its massive wing to cover him. The coordination was seamless—Arielle’s command pulsing through the bond she shared with her summon.

“Captain!” she shouted. “Crush the core, not the body!”

Veyne grunted acknowledgment and slammed his hammer down, the shockwave scattering the fragmented essence. This time, the pieces didn’t reform.

Arielle followed his rhythm, precise and fast, striking the glowing blue orbs within each beast’s chest.

One by one, the creatures faltered. Their essence flickered out like dying embers.

And then—silence.

The forest stilled again, save for the faint hum beneath their feet.

Arielle’s whip faded. She scanned the ravine, brow furrowing. The battle had been too organized, too deliberate. Those beasts hadn’t been hunting—they’d been defending.

She crouched and brushed away loose soil with her hand. Beneath the dirt, faint runic patterns pulsed, arranged in concentric circles. They glowed softly with blue-white light, reacting to her essence.

“Captain,” she said quietly, “they were guarding this.”

Veyne knelt beside her, running a hand along the markings. “Old design,” he muttered. “Very old. This doesn’t feel like Delwig’s work.”

When the last remnants of mana faded from the air, the team began to inspect the ruins. Arielle and Lyone worked side by side, clearing debris to reveal more of the structure hidden beneath.

It wasn’t just a pattern—it was an ancient relay, the kind used centuries ago to transfer essence through ley-lines before the modern system was built.

“This must predate Delwig,” Veyne said, awe mixing with caution. “Could be an old city vein.”

Lyone tilted his head. “Do you think the infiltrators found a way to use it? Like the tunnels?”

Arielle studied the gentle light pulsing beneath her palms. “Maybe. It’s possible they reactivated it for communication—or even transport. But…” she paused, eyes narrowing, “…the mana here isn’t corrupted. It’s clean. Untouched.”

She looked up at the trees—burned, broken, but alive at their roots. For the first time in days, she could breathe essence without tasting rot.

“So not all mana mutations are evil,” she said softly. “Only what humans twist for power.”

Veyne didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said he agreed.

Aquila landed beside her, folding its vast wings with a rustle. The griffin lowered its head until its beak was level with her chest. She smiled faintly, resting her palm against the smooth curve of its face.

“You did well,” she whispered.

The creature’s eyes glowed with soft intelligence, and a breeze rippled outward, cool and reassuring. Lyone watched them quietly—half in awe, half in longing.

A faint tremor rippled through the ground again. Arielle stood immediately, her instincts flaring. “Did you feel that?”

Veyne nodded. “Something below shifted.”

Aquila’s feathers bristled, eyes locking on the horizon. The air pressure changed—subtle, like the world inhaling before a storm.

And then she felt it: a pulse of dark essence, familiar and powerful. Her heart stuttered once before resuming its rhythm.

Lyone looked up, eyes wide. “Is that—?”

A shadow streaked across the sky.

A moment later, Skylar, Damien’s Shadowfang Wyvern, tore through the clouds like a blade through silk. Its scales shimmered with dark violet fire, wings slicing through the smoke as it dove. The gust from its descent sent waves through the grass and bent the trees around them.

Aquila shrieked back, answering its call—a resonant echo of wind and shadow.

Damien dropped from the saddle mid-air, landing in a controlled slide as Skylar wheeled upward, circling once before perching atop a crumbled watchtower in the distance.

The captain raised his weapon instinctively, but Arielle lifted a hand. “That’s Damien and he’s with us.”

Damien’s expression was unreadable as his gaze swept across the aftermath of the battle—the shattered beasts, the glowing runes. “You drew their attention,” he said finally, voice calm but edged. “Every mana beast in a five-mile radius turned toward this place.”

Arielle frowned. “Then we found their source faster than expected.”

He stepped closer, crouching to touch the ancient symbols beneath their feet. His expression hardened. “No. You didn’t find their source.” He glanced up at her, eyes sharp as flint. “You found their gate.”

The air around them vibrated softly, and from deep beneath the ravine, a low hum began to build—steady and alive.

Arielle’s pulse quickened. Aquila shifted uneasily, feathers trembling.

Damien straightened slowly, eyes narrowing toward the ground. “Whatever’s been sleeping under Delwig’s soil,” he murmured, “just woke up.”

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