Armand and Bojan descended the stairs to the basement. Although the mist was gradually dissipating, this didn't improve their visibility on the dark stairs. Their footsteps echoed heavily in the oppressive silence of the corridor, and the incessant noise of the prisoners, who were causing a carnage on the upper floors, gradually faded, giving the impression that they were descending into the bowels of a dungeon.

"Carolina must be here," Bojan murmured worriedly.

"We'll find her," replied Armand, determined. "But stay vigilant, there must surely be traps or other guards."

They finally reached a wide underground corridor, dimly lit by flickering torches hanging from the walls. At the end of it, a large iron gate appeared to be the entrance to another, even lower level. The mist had completely disappeared, revealing a most surprising sight.

All the guards present in this corridor were down and unconscious, as if there had been a fight here. Looking into the cells, they discovered a sinister landscape: dozens of prisoners' corpses lay in the purgatory cells, some dating back a very long time, given their state. Armand covered his mouth to keep from vomiting, while Bojan closed his eyes, his hands clasped, praying for the souls of the unfortunate departed.

Suddenly, a thud sounded behind them. They turned and saw a tall soldier rise to his feet. He was unlike the others: his body was entirely covered in thick armor, and the gleam of his eyes was barely discernible through his helmet.

"You," the man said quietly, his voice echoing down the corridor. "You're with that little bastard, aren't you?" He drew a claymore-like black longsword from its long scabbard.

"He looks tough," Armand thought aloud. Bojan, on the other hand, recognized him immediately: this was the head guard affiliated with purgatory.

"A little bastard? Who are you talking about?" asked Bojan.

The man didn't even bother to reply and charged towards them, wielding his huge blade as if it were a light sword. Armand stood in front of Bojan, his blue aura beginning to flicker around him. He clenched his fists, ready to dodge the attack.

The head guard struck with incredible force and Armand barely dodged, feeling the power of the blow pass right by him. The claymore crashed to the ground, creating a crack in the stone. Armand took advantage of the opportunity to launch a series of blows at him, his fists enveloped in a bright red aura.

But the head guard seemed to anticipate every move Armand made, parrying his attacks deftly with the flat of his blade and riposting with precision as Armand dodged as best he could.

"We can't go on at this rate," said Bojan, his hands ready to launch another electric shock. "We need to find a chink in his armor."

Armand nodded, his senses alert. His irises turned yellow as he analyzed the situation, looking for a weakness in their opponent's armor. He noticed a slight opening near the guard's right armpit, probably caused by recent battle. "Bojan, aim for his right armpit when I tell you to," he whispered quickly.

He concentrated, waiting for the right moment. As for the chief guard, he continued to attack ferociously, but each of his moves was anticipated and parried by Armand, who found him increasingly predictable and, thanks to the speed conferred by his blue aura, easy to avoid given his build. Bojan, for his part, maintained a cautious distance, ready to act.

Suddenly, Armand saw the opening he was looking for: the guard raised his sword for an attack, exposing the flaw in his armor. Armand made a discreet sign to Bojan, who understood immediately. With a swift movement, he fired an electric discharge as if he'd just thrown a lightning javelin, aiming at the chief guard's armpit.

The discharge hit the guard, penetrating the metal armor and spreading the electricity throughout his body. Armand seized the opportunity. With a cry of determination, he channeled a large quantity of magic into a powerful blow, aimed at the paralyzed guard's belly. Just before impact, he opened his hand, revealing a ball of red magic ready to explode at the slightest touch.

The impact was spectacular, with an explosion of red light throwing the guard backwards across the corridor with phenomenal force. He collided with the iron grate at the other end, the impact shaking the entire basement. His claymore, dropped under the violence of the blow, fell with a heavy metallic clang to the stone floor.

Armand and Bojan watched as the head guard lay against the gutted iron grate, his breastplate completely damaged and electric sparks still flying around him. He was definitely out of action. The two men congratulated each other modestly with only a celebratory clap of the hands.

They cautiously approached the impact-damaged gate. As they inspected the surroundings to make sure the way was clear. A faint voice came from the shadows of a nearby cell. Bojan advanced cautiously towards it and noticed that the cell was ajar and that there was a detached man, sitting against the cold wall and very badly off to the point that he was even missing an arm, recently lost judging by the bandage around the stump.

"Armand, come and see!"

Armand, who had been waiting in front of the gate after moving the guard, approached Bojan to see what was going on, and his eyes widened as he saw the state of the man he quickly recognized. This was the thief he'd seen subdued on his entry into Auroria by a lieutenant of the Imperial Guard. Then he stared at his missing arm and remembered that he'd been wounded in the shoulder.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"What happened to your arm?" asked Bojan, stooping down to the weakened man's level.

The man painfully raised his head, his face marked by pain and fatigue. "They... they tortured me," he whispered hoarsely. "They said that with my deep shoulder wound, my arm was useless. I wasn't even worth being a slave."

"So they cut it off you..." said Armand.

Armand contained himself by closing his eyes as he explained what happened to him, then turned his head to the right, toward something that intrigued him. There were handcuffs and chains closed on the floor even though they weren't holding anyone, then he looked at the man who wasn't chained either and remembered that Bojan had opened the cell door without forcing it, which is unusual especially in this basement where even corpses are still chained.

Bojan had noticed this earlier, but preferred to check the prisoner's condition before asking him about these strange details. "Tell me, how come you're not tied up? And your cell, why was it open?" asked Bojan.

"Ah... didn't you run into him on the way down to the basement?" replied the man painfully.

"Ran into him? Who? A guard?"

"No, there was a boy with me, about as tall as this young man," he said, pointing at Armand. "He also had red hair."

The man continued his tale, explaining that there had been a jolt earlier, caused by Armand's arrival, which had lightly extricated the stake holding the boy's chains to the wall, weakening the seal that hindered the magic of those in chains. Then, the boy had freed himself without even needing to open the handcuffs, but the man hadn't seen how.

After that, the boy had passed through the barrier as if his body were made of smoke. He had then temporarily asphyxiated the guards to render them unconscious, then, using a key stolen from a guard, he had opened the cell and freed his unfortunate roommate before dissipating into an immense mist on his way to the upper floors.

Armand and Bojan immediately made the connection with the mist that had escaped from the basement antechamber when they had opened the door earlier.

"You must be quick, I presume you want to go deeper. Please leave me here. I'd be nothing but a millstone unable to walk straight, I have no future but death."

"Don't say that," Bojan replied, holding his arm. "When it's all over, we'll set you all free, I promise."

Armand comforted him too, giving him one of the three green vials he had in his little bag to heal him, if only a little, so he could hold on. They left him in his cell for the time being, believing he would be safe here. They stepped back in front of the blown-up gate and finally penetrated deeper into the fortress. Armand, however, had a bad feeling, which he shared with Bojan.

"Don't you think it's become too quiet all of a sudden?" he whispered.

"What do you mean, too quiet? There's no one here but us and this man, it's normal."

"It's been a while since I've been able to hear the sounds of people on the first floor, it's strange."

"Don't worry, we're too far away to hear them."

"I know, but..."

"You better worry," said a distant voice behind them.

They turned suddenly, startled, as a huge blade of air burst out of the darkness, racing towards them. Armand narrowly avoided it, suffering a slight gash on his left cheek. The blade slammed into the gate, cutting it in two before dissipating.

"What the...?!"

A figure appeared at the entrance to the purgatory corridor, walking slowly. She appeared to be carrying a huge axe-like weapon, which clattered violently to the floor with a metallic clang before sliding across the stone as she made her way towards them. When she reached the light of a wall torch, her true appearance was revealed. She was a strong woman with long red hair and a bloody axe, suggesting the worst about what had happened up there.

"Who are you?" asked Armand, his face determined, wiping the blood from his cheek with his hand.

"O-Octavia?!" exclaimed Bojan, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. Armand looked at him and knew from his companion's reaction that this was someone important.

"I don't need to ask you about your intentions, I know very well what you're doing here, Bojan. As for you, kid, I don't know how you managed to infiltrate this prison despite the external security, but you won't get out of here alive," she declared, lifting her axe with ease in one hand.

"This woman is the executioner of the Silver Fortress. She's the one who carries out the punishments given to the prisoners."

"So she's the one who...," Armand whispered, thinking back to the prisoner's arm, hidden at the back of his cell, petrified by the scene.

Armand lost his senses and wrapped his fists in a reddish glow before rushing towards her without a second thought.

"Wait, no, Armand! This woman, she's... !" shouted Bojan, but it was already too late.

She stopped as she saw him charge, ready to deliver the same blow that had knocked the guard down earlier.

"Little impertinent," Octavia whispered, without moving an inch. Armand, having reached her height, launched his magic-laden punch. She raised a hand at the last moment and stopped the blow as if nothing had happened. Armand's magic dissipated instantly on contact with Octavia, the reddish energy vanishing like smoke. Armand froze, surprise and incomprehension written all over his face.

"How... ?" muttered Armand, not understanding what had just happened, as if his magic had completely disappeared at the instant of contact. Octavia clenched his fist in her hand to hold him firmly, then raised her heel and struck him in the stomach, causing him to recoil violently. Bojan rushed over to Armand and helped him to his feet, checking if he was all right.

"Armand, this woman, she's affected by a rare disease, a disease that makes the person totally immune to magic, rendering her insensitive to any magical attack," Bojan explained.

"'What? Does such thing exist?"

"Yes, but as I told you, it's very rare. However, by extension, the person can't feel magic either, unless they have a catalyst to do it for them, like this axe she has."

"All right, have you finished your little lesson about my apathomagy?" said Octavia impatiently, stepping towards them.

"We've to get rid of that axe, so..."

Armand was ready to fight again, but Bojan blocked him by stepping in front of him to stop him. "Let me handle her. Go and get Carolina. We can't waste any more time or the situation will get worse."

"But Bojan..."

"Listen to what I'm telling you and run!" shouted Bojan. Armand was worried for him, but he could do nothing against his will and obeyed, turning his back to him, facing the gate. " You'd better manage," he whispered.

Bojan smiled, facing Octavia as Armand went deeper after passing through the deformed gate. Octavia smiled at the sight, which she considered ridiculous. She rested the handle of her axe on her shoulder, waiting for her opponent to make his decision.

"Let's see what this big unloaded brute is worth, after all those black looks over all those years, you must be happy to finally be able to fight me, right?" asked Octavia in a mocking tone.

"Too bad that I can't burn your brain with my lightning, but you should know that I've been waiting for this, Octavia," Bojan replied, determined as he slammed his fists together, creating sparks from the impact.

End of chapter 15.