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    Opening his eyes, Kaius saw his companions standing by the door to their jail—prepared to defend against potential intruders.

    Porkchop was covered in his jade plate, ready and waiting to descend on anything that threatened to enter.

    Kenva was just behind him, staring intently through the wall, watching for guards, while Ianmus stood the furthest back—eyes focused as a small amount of Solar mana wove its way around his hand.

    He stood, an action that drew their attention. They looked over to him, waiting.

    His eyes roved over his friends—new and old—and he saw the heavy set weight on their shoulders, and the bubbling energy that threatened to spill over at any moment.

    They were fraying, he realised.

    If he didn’t give them direction—a clear avenue to direct their frustration and efforts—they risked their focus on their goal collapsing in favour of venting their frustrations on their captors. They were doomed if their attempt devolved into trying to wipe the whole compound of the map.

    “Okay, people!” he said, straightening his back to project confidence. “The day is here—we’re making it out, or we’ll die trying.”

    They grinned at his words.

    “I need everyone to remember that we have one true goal here—escape.” he continued, staring deep into their eyes so they were forced to acknowledge his words. “Do not doubt that we will have our pound of flesh, but I need you focused. We’re doomed if we fall completely to vengeance.”

    He could tell by the tightening of their eyes that his words had forced them to grapple with their impulses—though they still nodded. It was as good as it would get, he supposed.

    “Our first stop is gear—I know where the vault they are storing my sword is, and with a little luck the rest of our gear will be there too. If we can, we’re taking everything.”

    “I can get behind robbing them blind.” Kenva replied with a grin.

    Kaius returned her smile. “Like I said, we’ll have our pound of flesh—just because escape is our focus doesn’t mean we won’t take every opportunity to make it hurt on the way out.”

    “Ianmus—the room is warded, but like I mentioned, I know how to break it. I know you said you can manage eight simultaneous beams, but are you sure you can make them hot enough to deform stone?” he continued, switching his focus to their mage.

    Ianmus nodded. “Of course. Though it’ll take me three-quarters of a minute to channel the spell.”

    That was more than doable—taking the time to break the ward simultaneously was vital. If they didn’t, they’d be forced to deal with all sorts of alarms and counter-intrusion measures. Whoever had made the formation on the vault was skilled—simply trying to crack it with brute force would trigger several secondary enchantments.

    “Fantastic—I’ll let you know when to start, just wait for me to point out the glyphs you need to target.”

    That was one problem solved. He turned his attention to Kenva—he still didn’t know the full extent of her capabilities.

    “You said you’re best with a bow, but can you fight without one?”

    The woman winced. “Not until I have some shortswords or at least a knife—most of my skills are ineffective without that at the minimum.”

    A shame, but an issue that wouldn’t hamper them overmuch. Porkchop alone would be all they needed until they breached the vault—especially supported by both his and Ianmus’s spells.

    “Just keep an eye on any approaching guards—relay anything you see to Porkchop, he’ll be able to pass it along,” he replied.

    Finally, he met his brother’s eyes.

    “You know what to do.”

    “Kill quickly, and keep the squishy ones safe.” Porkchop replied with a roll of his eyes, drawing a smile from Kaius.

    They were ready—as much as they would ever be.

    He stepped forwards, taking the offered key and wardstone from Ianmus, before he unlocked the door to the jail.


    Taking a final breath to ready himself, he pushed it open—revealing a hall drenched in a pulsing red light.

    It was time to breach the vault.

    Walking the corridors of their prison under his own power was a surreal experience.

    Despite being crafted out of the same blocky granite as the cells, the halls were finished to a far higher standard. Ground decently smooth, it was almost comfortable beneath his uncovered feet. Or, at least, it wasn’t obviously designed to maximise discomfort.

    Neither was the hall pervaded by the same dank humidity that had seeped out of every seam in the cells. Dry and free of mould, the air tasted almost fresh—if the word could be used for an underground bunker with questionable ventilation.

    He’d seen it before, of course, but only with his mind clouded by toxins, and his limbs bound. Even unarmed and garbed in disintegrating burlap, the absence of those things only heightened the taste of freedom that seemed to waft down the corridors.

    That said, it wasn’t exactly an environment that encouraged his relief. Especially with the wardlights that drenched every visible surface in a deep red light. Even and dim, it stripped him of all sense of depth, softening shadows and flatting the hall.

    With his team behind him, he crept forwards, his readiness held in the taut tension of his jaw and the rhythmic clenching of his fists. Thankfully, every hallway he had seen so far had been a wide thing—broad enough that Porkchop could walk beside Kenva and Ianmus with ease.

    Having to walk ahead or behind the pair would have made his brother’s job far harder if they were rushed at, or ambushed from behind.

    This close to their cells, their route was relatively simple—a straight path further into the lowest level, with few branching paths or rooms where remnant stragglers may lie in weight, having yet to join the defence above.

    Their dungeon wasn’t the only one in the complex, either. To their left and right, more doors lay open, revealing cells that were an identical copy to the rooms that had held them for the last few months.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Each and every one they passed, Kaius looked back to Kenva to see if she had seen the signs of anything living. Every shake of her head was a relief. It seemed that they were the only ones unlucky enough to have fallen into the clutches of the kidnappers who had stolen them.

    A small blessing.

    Another quake shook the building and Kaius raised an arm to shield his face from the falling dust, a single wardlight above their head flickering as its formation was momentarily disturbed.

    They pushed on.

    After passing another dozen or so cells the doors set into the wall stopped while the hallway continued on unbroken—a gentle bend hiding the crossroads that he knew lay ahead.

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