Rogal struggled to his knees. He was injured, but not out. He still has one hidden weapon, it clicked and whirred, preparing for a desperate final salvo.

Nox, who was in Ray’s shadow, sensed the threat.

With swift motion from Ray’s shadow, Nox lunged directly at Rogal.

The void-malkin materialized around Rogal’s sword arm, his jaws clamping down not on flesh, but on the mechanical housing of the gauntlet.

CRUNCH.

Nox’s fangs crushed the firing mechanism. The hidden blades jammed.

“Get off me!”

Rogal roared, swinging his arm, but the split second of interference was enough.

Rina. Now!

Ray mentally commanded.

Rina dove past the distracted Rogal. She slid into the circle of light, grabbed Titus Thorne by the collar, and moved him to safety.

“Move!”

Rina screamed, hauling Titus Thorne.

Rogal shattered Nox’s form with a backhand blow, dissipating the hound back into mist, but the prize was gone.

He looked at his jammed gauntlets, his smoking chest, and the retreating enemies.

“If I can’t clean the stain,”

Rogal snarled, his eyes filled with cold, mechanical fury,

“I can burn the whole cloth!”

Rogal stood up. His armor was compromised. He looked at Ray, then at Svane who had regained his footing, and finally at Rina securing the objective.

He was a professional. He knew the stakes. An Aegis adapting to the environment, plus a Mage who broke the laws of natural order? The odds had shifted.

He spat a glob of blood onto the floor.

“You think you’ve won?”

Rogal snarled.

“You secured the asset. Congratulations.”

He reached to his belt and pulled out a heavy, cylindrical detonator.

“But the Argent Hand doesn’t leave loose ends.”

Svane’s eyes went wide.

“My Lord! He’s rigged the mine!”

Click.

Deep in the earth, a series of dull thuds echoed.

The cavern groaned. Dust began to fall from the ceiling. Then, massive chunks of Void Ore broke loose, crashing down around them.

“I bury it all!”

Rogal laughed.

He fired a grappling hook from his gauntlet toward a vertical direction high above, winching himself up and away from the fight.

“Leave him!”

Ray shouted, as a boulder the size of a carriage smashed into the spot where Rogal had been standing.

“The mine is coming down! Move!”

Svane grabbed Titus Thorne.

They turned and sprinted back toward the tunnel entrance, the roar of the collapsing mountain chasing them into the dark.

They scrambled up the sloping tunnel, lungs burning, the air thick with dust and the smell of pulverized stone. Behind them, the darkness swallowed the violet glow of the Void Ore.

They burst into the study, tumbling onto the plush carpet.

“SEAL IT!”

Svane shouted.

He and Ray and the party threw their weight against the heavy iron door. It groaned on its hinges, fighting the pressure differential of the collapsing mine below. With a final, unified heave, they slammed it shut.

CLANG.

Kaelen frantically pulled the book that opened the door earlier and the mechanism engaged. The mahogany bookcase slid back into place, hiding the iron door just as a massive tremor shook the foundations of the manor.

Books rattled off the shelves. A porcelain vase crashed to the floor.

Then, silence.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Or what passed for it. The roar of the collapse was muffled now, a distant thunder beneath their feet. But closer, right outside the study door, was a different kind of noise.

“Search the West Wing!”

a voice barked from the hallway.

“There’s another explosion! Find the source and lock down the perimeter!”

Rina pressed her ear to the door, then pulled back, her face pale.

“The hallway is swarming,”

she whispered.

“Gilded Wolves. What do we do?”

Ray leaned against the desk, chest heaving. They were alive. They had the witness and they had the evidence.

He raised his arms towards the door of the study.

“Visio.”

Ray whispered while he used the Aether Infusion technique on the spell. He had tried the different effects of aether on spells that he can cast during his downtime and for the cantrip spell Minor Illusion, a normal simple illusion spell but when infused with aether the illusion becomes real and its duration and toughness depends on how much aether he had infused.

Although he had used a big amount of aether from their fight with Rogal earlier, Ray now has much larger aether reserves compared to before. The effect of his cultivation in the Genesis Crystal chamber has now shown dividends.

The air shimmered. Light bent and twisted, it coalesced into a perfect image of a wall covering the door in the study. As Ray infused aether into the spell the illusionary image drank the energy, its edges sharpening, its texture gaining the roughness of a real wall. In a heartbeat, the lie became the truth.

Svane stared at the wall where the door had been. He reached out slowly, his armored gauntlet trembling slightly. He expected his hand to pass through the image like smoke, to feel the cold iron of the door beneath a layer of light.

Instead, his knuckles grazed stone.

Scrape.

The sound was gritty and undeniable. It was the sound of metal against rough masonry.

“That’s… that’s a Minor Illusion cantrip,”

Svane whispered, his voice sounding uncharacteristically small. He pressed his full weight against it. The ‘illusion’ didn’t flicker; it held him.

“Only a 5th-circle spell ‘Creation’ could create a real object out of nothing. But you definitely cast a cantrip level spell.”

Rina stepped forward, her eyes wide. She ran her hand over the surface. She tapped it with her dagger.

Clink.

“It’s solid,”

Rina breathed, looking at Ray as if he had just grown a second head.

“It feels like cold stone. How? It’s just… it’s just a picture.”

Kaelen, who had been raised in a house of secrets and studied under elite masters at the Academy, looked terrifyingly pale. She looked at Ray’s hands, which were still smoking faintly with the golden residue of the Aether.

“You didn’t cast an illusion,”

Kaelen realized, her voice barely a whisper.

“How did you do it?”

Ray lowered his arms, the exhaustion of the expenditure finally hitting him. He leaned back against the desk, hiding the tremble in his hands.

“It’s temporary,”

Ray said calmly.

“It will hold as long as the energy lasts. But right now, to anyone on the other side, the door simply doesn’t exist.”

Everyone looked at Ray, they understood it was not the time to solve this miracle they had just witnessed as they are still trapped surrounded by merciless Wolves.

Titus Thorne groaned, clutching his head. Blood was streaming down his face from a gash on his temple, likely from the debris in the mine. He looked small, shrunken in his torn velvet coat.

“Get him on the desk Captain!”

Ray ordered, sweeping a stack of tax documents onto the floor. Svane moved and carried Titus Thorne and slowly laid him down on the desk.

Using the World Weary Healer’s ‘Diagnosis’ and ‘First Aid’ skill, the world washed out into greys and reds. The sound of the surroundings faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic thumping of Titus’s heart.

Healer: “Messy, scalp wounds. They always bleed like a stuck pig. It scares the rookies, but it’s usually just noise”

The World Weary Healer grumbled in Ray’s mind, his voice sounding like an old battlefield surgeon who had seen too many soldiers die in the mud.

He reached into his bag of holding and pulled out a standard field kit, bandages, antiseptic spirit, and a needle.

Ray had anticipated injuries in this excursion and he came prepared.

Healer: “Check the pupils, Left is sluggish. Right is responsive. Mild concussion, but no cranial fracture. He’s not dying from the hit. He’s dying from panic.”

The World weary Healer advised.

“Hold him.”

Ray said to Kaelen.

“Is he… is he going to be okay?”

Kaelen asked, her voice trembling as she gripped her father’s hand.

Healer: “Pulse is thready. Skin is clammy, neurogenic shock. His blood pressure is dropping because his nervous system is overwhelmed. Ignore the girl. Empathy makes your hands shake. Just plumbing. Fix the pipes.”

The World Weary Healer noted dryly.

“Head wound. It looks worse than it is. He’s in shock,”

Ray murmured, echoing the Archetype’s diagnosis but softening the tone.

He soaked a cloth in the antiseptic spirit.

Ray pressed the cloth to the gash. Titus hissed, his body arching in pain, but Ray didn’t flinch. He cleaned the wound with efficient, brutal strokes, preparing the needle.

Ray also dripped the needle in the antiseptic spirit and started to stitch the wound.

Titus hissed, his eyes snapping open.

“Rogal… did he…?”

“He buried himself,”

Ray said, quickly stitching the wound with practiced, steady hands.

“He collapsed the mine down to kill us. He failed.”

Titus let out a ragged breath, staring up at the ceiling of his study.

“He doesn’t fail. He’s a Finger.”

“A Finger?”

Svane asked.

“The Argent Hand,”

Titus whispered, wincing as Ray tightened a stitch.

“They have a hierarchy. The Hand is the Banker. But the Fingers… they are the operatives. K is one. Rogal is another. If Rogal was here…”

Titus looked at his daughter, tears mixing with the blood on his cheek.

“If he was here, it means the Hand already deemed House Thorne a failed investment. They sent Rogal ‘The Cleaner’ to close the account.”

“Father…What did you do? For them to take such a drastic action?”

Kaelen asked softly.

“I couldn’t accept it, Kaelen,”

Titus whispered, his voice cracking.

“What K did to you… at the Academy. The kidnapping. The torture. You are the only family I have left. When your mother died, I swore on her grave I would keep you safe.”

He opened his eyes, looking at her with a fierce, desperate love.

“I reached out and questioned ‘The Curators.’ I demanded justice. I told them that K had crossed a line, that he had touched my flesh and blood, my family. I demanded they hand him over to me.”

He laughed bitterly, a wet, rattling sound.

“They told me to know my place. They called you ‘necessary collateral.’ They told me to take my hush money and be silent.”

Titus squeezed her hand, his knuckles white.

“So I threatened them. I told them if they didn’t give me K’s head, I would expose everything. The Void Ore, the smuggling of it, the routes, the bribed officials… I told them I would burn their shadow empire to the ground.”

A tear traced a path through the grime on his face.

“I thought I held a trump card. I thought I was a partner.”

He shook his head slowly.

Ray looked at Titus as he explained to Kaelen what he had done, he had remembered his father Alistair and how he was refused by the Royal College of Physicians, when he asked for their help to say Ray. He was deemed a ‘resource allocation issue,’ and not of national strategic interest.

Ray shook his head bitterly.

“But the Hand doesn’t negotiate with pawns. They just sweep them off the board.”

Ray finished the bandage, tying it off with a sharp tug.

“Regret is a luxury for the living, Lord Thorne. You poked the dragon, and now it’s breathing fire. We need to leave before we all get burned.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep