The ventilation shaft was a throat of rusted iron, choked with the heat of the earth.

Ray, Svane, and Rina walk through the cramped darkness, Svane has to crouch to fit his towering body, the metal vibrating against their chests with the rhythmic thrum of the heavy machinery below. The air grew hotter with every meter they descended, smelling less like smoke and more like ozone and crushed rock.

“I don’t understand,”

Svane whispered, his voice echoing slightly in the duct.

“If Thorne is just a merchant lord, why does he have a subterranean facility? Smelting is loud and messy. You do that on the surface, not in a basement.”

“Because he isn’t smelting iron down here,”

Ray whispered in response.

“Titus Thorne isn’t a scientist, Captain. He’s a fence.”

“A fence?”

“He bought his nobility,”

Ray explained, his mind racing through the Eccentric Scholar’s ‘Research Acumen’ skill, he browsed his mind’s database and zeroed in on information he had on House Thorne.

“The Argent Hand didn’t fund him because they liked his personality. They funded him because he owned the land. I believe he is sitting on something. Something valuable enough to mobilize the Argent Hand’s interest and wants to keep off the books.”

Ray reached the end of the shaft. A slatted grate looked down into a massive, cavernous sub-basement carved directly into the mountain’s roots.

Ray peered through the slats. Ray activated the Serene Culstivator’s ‘Aetheric Perception’ skill.

The world below turned into a wireframe of heat and mana. But what Ray saw made him pause.

“Masks on,”

Ray whispered.

“You’re not going to believe this.”

They kicked the grate loose and dropped onto a high maintenance walkway that circled the perimeter of the cavern.

The facility was vast. It was lit by the harsh, flickering orange of magma channels cut into the floor, but the shadows were deep. Dozens of workers, gaunt men and women with black tatoo on their necks the Debt Codes, shuffled along assembly lines and were guarded by Gilded Wolves, who prowled the catwalks with crossbows and shock-batons.

But it wasn’t the slavery that drew Ray’s eye. It was the rock.

Huge mine carts were being wheeled in from a dark tunnel that led deeper into the mountain. The carts were filled with jagged, violet-black stones that seemed to drink the light around them.

“That’s not iron,”

Rina whispered, staring at the strange ore.

Ray watched the process. The workers took the violet stones and placed them into molds. Then, a vat of molten lead and slag was poured over them, encasing the precious ore inside a shell of worthless grey waste.

They weren’t refining it. They were hiding it.

System, analyze the ore.

Ray commanded silently. “Analyze the ore.”

[ANALYSIS: GEOLOGICAL SAMPLE]

[TARGET: UNREFINED VOID-ORE]

[PROPERTIES: HIGH DENSITY, MANA-DAMPENING FIELD, MANA RESISTANCE.]

[DESCRIPTION: A rare, subterranean isotope found in high-pressure volcanic veins. When refined, it produces ‘Null Alloy,’ a metal capable of disrupting the flow of structured Mana upon contact.]

Ray’s breath hitched.

Null Alloy.

Memories flashed through his mind. The terrifying vanguards of High Inquisitor Zenus Landa. Their armor that looked like it could shrug off fireballs. Their blades that felt like it could cut through magical wards like paper.

“It’s Null Alloy,”

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Ray hissed, gripping the railing.

“Or the raw material for it.”

Svane looked at him, his face pale. “The mage-killer metal? That’s a kingdom level strategic resource. The Kingdom’s Royal family supposedly controls the only stockpile, and your saying they are making it here?”

“I am afraid it is so,”

Ray said darkly.

“So this is what the facility is for, processing void ores. And Titus Thorne is sitting on a motherlode.”

Ray pointed to the assembly line.

“Look at what they’re doing. They’re encasing the Void Ore in slag bricks. They mark them as ‘Industrial Waste’ or ‘Pig Iron’ and ship them out of the Kingdom. They’re smuggling a strategic military resource right under the Kingdom’s nose.”

The pieces clicked into place. The Argent Hand wasn’t just a bank. They were an international power broker. They had supported House Thorne here to mine this ore in secret, then export it to the Free Marches of Solara, or sell it to the highest bidder.

They were stripping the Kingdom of its own strategic resource which could possibly be used against it.

“Titus Thorne sold his country for a title,”

Ray whispered.

“And when ‘K’ used his daughter as a pawn, Titus grew a spine. He threatened to expose the operation.”

“So the Hand sent the Gilded Wolves,”

Svane finished, his hand drifting to his sword.

“To secure as much shipment as they can, kill the witnesses, and burn the evidence.”

They moved silently along the catwalk, heading toward the freight elevator that led to the upper manor. The heat was stifling.

Below them, the workers moved with the terrified speed of people who knew they were living on borrowed time. The Gilded Wolves were shouting, checking pocket watches.

“Faster!”

a Wolf Captain barked, striking a worker with the flat of his blade.

“The liquidation timeline is set! This floor gets purged in twenty minutes!”

Ray stopped.

To his right, tucked into a dark alcove near the blast furnace intake, was a large holding pen. It was a cage of reinforced steel, packed tight with people.

There were nearly thirty of them. They weren’t miners. They wore the uniforms of household staff, butlers in torn coats, maids in dusty aprons, cooks, and stable hands.

They were huddled together, weeping silently.

Rina stopped dead. She gripped the railing so hard her knuckles turned white.

“That’s… that’s the staff,”

Rina whispered.

Ray looked at the cage. He looked at the Gilded Wolves piling explosive barrels near the support pillars.

“They aren’t just killing the miners,”

Ray realized.

“They’re erasing everyone connected to House Thorne.”

Rina turned to Ray. Her eyes were wet, but they were burning with a fierce, terrifying light.

“We can’t leave them, Ray.”

“We are here for Kaelen,”

Ray said, though his voice lacked its usual conviction.

“If we stop to free thirty civilians, we lose the element of surprise. The guards will hear the commotion.”

“They’re going to burn them alive!”

Rina hissed.

“Just like… just like they would have burned me.”

Ray looked at Rina. He saw the reflection of the blast furnace in her eyes. He saw the girl who he knew had taken care of him since Ray was a child. The girl who had been nothing but kind to him since he came into this world. His first friend.

He looked at the cage.

Veteran: “A direct rescue is suicide. However… chaos is a ladder.”

The Grizzled Veteran grumbled

Ray’s lips curled into a cold, dangerous smile.

“You’re right,”

Ray said.

“We can’t leave them. And we won’t.”

He turned to the massive pressure valves controlling the flow of molten slag into the disguise molds.

“Titus built a machine to hide his sins,”

Ray murmured, pulling the Theorist’s Glove tight.

“Let’s see what happens when we break it.”

Ray moved to the control junction of the main blast furnace. It was a complex array of brass gears and steam pipes.

“Captain,”

Ray ordered.

“The Gilded Wolves are focused on the loading dock. You need to take out the two guards by the cage. Quietly.”

“Consider it done,”

Svane said, drawing his sword. He dropped from the catwalk, landing silently in the shadows behind the unsuspecting guards.

“Rina,”

Ray said, looking her in the eye.

“I’m going to over-pressurize the heating feed. In three minutes, this entire basement is going to fill with steam and molten slag. It will trigger every alarm in the house.”

He pointed to the cage.

“You go down there. You open that lock. And you tell them to run.”

“Run where?”

Rina asked.

“Anywhere but here,”

Ray said.

“Tell them to scatter. To scream. To riot. We need a distraction big enough to pull every guard in the manor down to the basement. We can’t guarantee their survival but this is their best chance.”

Rina nodded. She drew her daggers and vaulted over the railing, following Svane.

Ray turned back to the machine. He placed his hand on the pressure regulator.

He didn’t just break the valve. He reversed the flow. He jammed the safety release with a conjured spike of solidified mana. The needle on the pressure gauge began to climb, trembling as it hit the red zone. The pipes groaned, but the cast iron casing was thick; it was holding together.

It needed a push.

Ray took a half-step back, ensuring the machine was still within his reach but his face was shielded. He raised both hands to chest level, fingers splayed.

“Shatter.”

He slammed his palms together.

CRACK.

The aether-infused cantrip spell Thunderclap discharged with the violence of a cannon shot in the confined space. The shockwave didn’t just deafen the room; it hammered into the over-pressurized machine like a physical blow. The sonic vibration was the final straw.

The iron casing fractured. With a screech of tearing metal, the machine blew apart, unleashing a cloud of scalding steam and shrapnel.

Below, Svane moved like a blur. The Gold-Aegis is finally unleashing his potential. He grabbed the first guard, muffled his mouth, and drove a dagger into the gap of his armor. The man slumped. The second guard turned, eyes wide, only to meet the pommel of Svane’s sword crashing into his temple.

Rina rushed to the cage. She didn’t have a key. She jammed her dagger into the lock mechanism.

She manipulated and poured umbral mana into her arms and twisted. The lock shattered.

The door swung open. The staff stared at her, terrified and confused.

“Listen to me!”

Rina shouted, her voice cutting through their panic.

“There is going to be an explosion soon! You have to run! Get to the ventilation tunnels! Get to the hills! Go!”

The realization hit them. The herd instinct took over. They poured out of the cage, scattering into the shadows of the massive factory floor.

Just then, a warning siren began to wail. A low, monotone sound that echoed off the stone walls.

WARNING. WARNING. CRITICAL PRESSURE. FURNACE ONE.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep