As Ray was getting ready to enter, Svane stepped forward.

“Where does this entrance lead to?”

Svane asked, peering into the gloom.

“Let’s find out. But stay close. We don’t know what’s at the end of this..”

Ray said cautiously.

They stepped inside.

The descent was long and oppressive. For ten minutes, the only sound was the crunch of their boots on loose gravel and the distant, muffled thrum of the earth itself. The heat of the burning manor above faded, replaced by a bone-deep chill. The opulence of the red carpets and gold frames was gone, stripped away to reveal the raw, ugly geology of Iron-Wake.

The tunnel twisted and turned, diving deeper than any basement should go. Ray checked his internal compass; they were now well below the cliff line, deep inside the bedrock that supported the fortress.

Finally, the tunnel widened into a massive natural gallery.

Ray stopped. He raised his glowing Theorist gloves.

“By the Founders.”

Rina said while breathing heavily.

The walls of the cavern weren’t grey stone. They were studded with massive, jagged crystals of violet-black stone. The formations were huge, some as thick as tree trunks, jutting out from the rock like broken teeth.

They didn’t reflect Ray’s light. They seemed to drink it, pulsing with a faint, nauseating anti-rhythm that made the edges of Ray’s vision blur.

“Void Ore,”

Ray whispered, the words heavy on his tongue.

He walked up to a crystal, careful not to touch it. He looked back at the tunnel they had just descended, then up toward where the manor sat burning miles above them.

The realization hit him like a physical blow.

“This is it, this is why they wanted to burn the house.”

Ray said, his voice echoing in the quiet cavern.

“I don’t understand, why destroy the estate for… for rocks?”

Kaelen said, hugging herself against the chill.

“Because these aren’t just rocks, this is a void ore vein, this is what your bracelet was made of. This is a kingdom level strategic weapon. And the entrance to the vein isn’t out in the valley; it’s right behind your father’s desk.”

Ray explained, his face illuminated by the ghostly light.

He gestured to the tunnel.

“The fire isn’t just to hide the looting. They plan to collapse the manor on top of this room. They want to bury this entrance under a mountain of rubble so the Kingdom never finds the source of the void ore.”

This was the vein. If all of it was harvested and processed it could become a major source of the Argent Hand’s military power. And the Argent Hand was willing to erase a noble bloodline just to keep it a secret.

From deep down the tunnel, further into the dark, a voice echoed up.

“You can’t do this! We had a deal!”

Kaelen’s head snapped up.

“Father!”

Ray looked at his team. The building above them was burning. The Gilded Wolves were swarming the grounds. And the target was down in a hole that was about to be buried.

“We are in the belly of the beast now, watch your mana. The ore will dampen your spells.”

Ray said, tightening his Theorist Gloves..

He looked back at the darkness ahead.

“Let’s go find your father.”

The cavern was vast, a cathedral of shadow and violet light.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Ray, Svane, and Kaelen crouched behind a cluster of stalagmites, peering into the gallery. The air here was heavy, pressing against their skin like a wet wool blanket. It wasn’t just humidity; it was the Void Ore. The massive crystals studding the walls pulsed with an anti-rhythm, a sucking sensation that Ray could feel in his whole body.

In the center of the cavern, illuminated by a single, cold lantern, a drama was playing out.

Lord Titus Thorne was on his knees, he was injured and bleeding. The merchant lord, usually so composed and arrogant, was weeping. He clutched a heavy, black leather-bound ledger to his chest like a shield.

“You can’t do this!”

Titus sobbed, looking up at the man towering over him.

“I have backups! I have files in Solara! If you kill me, everything goes public!”

The man standing over him didn’t flinch.

He was clad in a sleek, prototype suit of armor. It was dull grey, seamless, and seemed to drink the ambient light of the cavern.

Ray’s eyes narrowed. The design was different, more tactical and less ornate. But the feeling of it made his skin crawl. It radiated the same cold, sickening silence as the heavy plate armor worn by the Vanguards of High Inquisitor Zenus Landa when they marched into Solhaven Academy.

It was the same metal.

Courtier: “The connection is confirmed. The Argent Hand isn’t just mining the ore. They are refining it and possibly using it for strategic purposes like their operative and even their private army!”

The Scheming Courtier whispered, slotting the final piece of the puzzle into place.

Ray narrowed his eyes, he imagined a private army like the Gilded Wolves equipped with this type of armor would make them a strong counter when facing mages and spellswords which is a major strategic unit of Eldoria’s army. And that’s just the start, what if a whole army from a different kingdom is equipped with this armor, the whole of Eldoria’s military would be at a serious disadvantage.

When Kaelen saw the scene she was about to burst out and help her father but she was stopped by Ray.

“Let us continue to observe first and make sure there isn’t anyone else in the area.”

Ray whispered, holding Kaelen back by the shoulder.

He looked down to his shadow, to Nox.

Scout.

He commanded mentally.

Nox moved to obey. But when the shadow separated from Ray’s silhouette, it didn’t flow like liquid ink as it usually did. It spilled out like thin, wispy smoke.

Nox paused for a moment, his form flickering at the edges.

‘What is wrong?’ Ray projected, frowning.

A shiver ran through their mental link. Nox didn’t send an image, but a raw sensation:

Dilution.

It felt like trying to hold water in a clenched fist. Nox projected a feeling of being unraveled, as if the air itself was trying to pull his atoms apart. The heavy, sucking pressure of the violet crystals was making it difficult for him to maintain a solid form. He felt less like a wolf and more like a ghost.

It didn’t feel it earlier when it was in Ray’s shadow as it accessed aether from his aura.

The environment is affecting Nox.

Ray realized, interpreting the static in the bond.

He can’t hold his density here.

Just eyes, Nox.

Ray reassured him, pumping a small pulse of Aether into the bond to stabilize him.

Don’t engage. Just look.

Nox let out a low, mental whine, but the infusion grounded him. He turned transparent, fading into the gloom, and drifted forward toward the circle of light.

After a short while Nox returned it immediately merged back to Ray’s shadow, it projected its report.

Safe, Home, Clear.

Ray understood, there is no one else in the area.

“I just got confirmation that the area is clear, let us wait for an opportunity to strike.”

The party nodded looking at Ray.

The man in front of Titus Thorne held a serrated greatsword in one hand, the metal dark and unpolished.

“A backup?”

The mysterious man said. His voice was calm, bored even.

“Oh you mean the backup you have in the vaults of the Iron Bank of Solara? The Hand already got those and burned the contents, you thought we are not aware of what you have been doing, you thought the Hand can’t access the Iron Bank vaults. You have nothing, Titus. You are a liability.”

The man stepped closer, the Null-Plate armor moving silently.

“Lies! Why would the Hand suspect me Rogal, I have been nothing but loyal to them!”

The mysterious man now identified as Rogal just smirked and didn’t even bother to respond to Titus Thorne’s statement.

“K would have kept you alive,”

Rogal mused, shaking his head.

“He likes to play with his food. He likes the drama. But I am not K. I prefer a clean ledger.”

He raised the greatsword.

“Goodbye, Lord Thorne.”

Seeing the situation, Ray had no choice but to engage.

“Now!”

Ray hissed.

Svane moved. He didn’t run; he exploded from cover, utilizing the Gold Aegis technique ‘Supreme Assault.’

He closed the fifty-foot gap in a heartbeat. As he ran, he raised his left hand, channeling mana for his opening move.

Svane pointed at Rogal that was about to swing the serrated greatsword.

“Ictus.”

He intended to blast Rogal backward, creating space to secure the hostage. A lance of blue force shot from Svane’s fingers.

But after the bolt traveling about ten feet the spell… died.

The blue light didn’t explode; it unraveled. The mana hissed and dissolved into harmless sparks, sucked dry by the hungry crystals in the walls.

Svane’s eyes widened. He faltered for a fraction of a second, his rhythm broken.

Ray, seeing the failure, tried to compensate. He snapped his hand forward, aiming to pull Titus to safety.

“Vitis Trahe!”

A vine of magical energy extended from his palm. It traveled three feet before turning grey, withering, and crumbling to dust mid-air.

Rogal slowly turned around, his helmet masking his expression.

He scanned the intruders. His gaze lingered on Svane’s stance, recognizing the kinetic casting technique despite the failure, and then flicked to Kaelen, who stood behind them, her face bare and pale.

“A Spellsword? And the Thorne girl?”

Rogal’s voice was dry, amused.

“I was wondering when the rest of the family would join the reunion.”

He made a battle stance, the Null-Plate armor shifting with a heavy, mechanical hiss.

“Who are the rest of you supposed to be? Heroes in masks?”

Rogal shook his head.

“You people have no idea what you have put yourselves into. This isn’t a rescue mission. It’s a disposal site.”

He raised the greatsword, the serrated edge catching the dim light.

“But it does not matter. I absolutely hate it when dirt tries to interrupt my cleaning.”

He raised the greatsword pointing it towards Svane.

“This will be easy, you’re just an ordinary man here, Spellsword!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep