Meanwhile, back in Sylas's chambers, Redel arrived as summoned.

He entered the room swiftly.

"You called for me, my lord?" Redel asked, bowing slightly.

Sylas turned to face Redel,

"Yes," Sylas said.

"I have a task for you. Suntuzel is leading the effort to recover Machivel and Gran, but I require you to serve as my eyes and ears in this matter. You will accompany him and ensure that no detail escapes our notice."

----------------------------------------

Within the hour, Suntuzel's group was assembled.

The ten mages stood in formation, Suntuzel and Sardias in front looking at them.

Suntuzel addressed the group, his voice firm.

"Our mission is to locate and recover Machivel and Gran. We are heading into unknown territory, so prepare for anything. Remember, failure is not an option."

-

Before leaving to join Sardias and Suntuzel, Redel asked some questions.

“I did not expect that Gran and Machivel are missing. What’s the situation, my lord?"

"That is correct. I cannot reach Machivel, which suggests one of two possibilities. Either he has perished, or he has been transported to a place where my connection to him is blocked."

Redel tilted his head, considering this.

"Do you truly believe they could be dead? Both Gran and Machivel are formidable. It would take an extraordinary effort to eliminate them, especially together."

"Precisely. I do not believe they have been killed—not easily, at least. Gran and Machivel possess level-three mid- to-peak battle powers, a synergy that is difficult to counter. Gran excels in close combat, his magical enhancements making him a relentless force on the battlefield, while Machivel provides ranged support with his spells.”

Redel nodded in agreement.

"Their combined skills make them a devastating duo. Gran’s relentless attacks would overwhelm most enemies, and Machivel’s precise magical support would eliminate any weaknesses. For them to be captured or incapacitated… this must be the work of something exceptional."

Sylas’s expression darkened.

"Indeed. That would explain the disruption in my connection to Machivel."

Redel frowned.

"A trap of that magnitude would require meticulous planning and a deep understanding of their strengths and weaknesses. Or, a level four mage...”

"Exactly. And that is why I have sent Suntuzel and Sardias to locate and recover them. Suntuzel’s strategic mind and Sardias’s expertise with magical traps make them the ideal team for this mission."

Redel folded his arms, his expression thoughtful.

"And what of you, my lord? Will you remain here to oversee the situation?"

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"Yes. I will stay to direct operations from here. My connection to Machivel may be blocked, but I still have ways to monitor the broader magical currents. If anything changes—if their location becomes clearer or if the enemy reveals themselves—I will know."

Redel hesitated.

"Do you believe there is a possibility they won’t be found? Or worse, that they’ve already been compromised?"

Sylas’s gaze hardened.

"We must prepare for that eventuality. While I have faith in their abilities, it would be foolish not to consider the worst-case scenario. If Gran and Machivel cannot be recovered, we will need to act swiftly to secure our position and neutralize whatever threat has targeted them."

"Understood. If that time comes, you can count on me to execute whatever measures are necessary."

Sylas rose from his chair,

"Good. For now, remain alert. Suntuzel and Sardias will report back as soon as they uncover anything. Until then, we must be prepared for any outcome. Gran and Machivel are not just warriors; they are also family, carrying the surname of the “Sylind.”.

"I’ll keep myself ready. If there’s anything else you need, my lord, you have only to say the word."

"I expect nothing less from you, Redel. Now go.”

If anyone could survive such a predicament, it was Gran and Machivel.

And if they could not, then Redel would be ready to face death.

--

An hour had passed since the battle against the Demonfire Candles ended.

Machivel and Gran sat on the ground, their breathing heavy as they tried to recover.

Around them lay the melting remains of the Demonfire Candles.

Gran leaned back against the wall, his sword resting beside him, its blade still faintly glowing with the residual energy of his attacks.

His eyes scanned the room, taking in the devastation.

Despite his exhaustion, he couldn’t help but think aloud.

"That was... the hardest fight of my life," he muttered.

Machivel, sitting cross-legged a few feet away, was less focused on their grueling victory.

His sharp eyes roved across the walls, his expression turning contemplative.

Something had caught his attention—something subtle yet distinct.

Without looking at Gran, he raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence.

Gran, despite his weariness, understood immediately.

He nodded and remained silent, his instincts kicking in.

Though he didn’t know what Machivel had noticed, he trusted his companion’s judgment.

After all, Machivel wasn’t just a fighter—he was a thinker, a strategist.

----------------------------------------

As the silence stretched on, Gran couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

His eyes darted to the walls, and for the first time, he noticed the intricate designs carved into the stone.

“These are faint, almost as if they had been worn down by time,” Machivel thought.

“Symbols and patterns swirled together, forming a network of what could only be described as magical inscriptions.”

Machivel stood up slowly,

He approached one of the walls, his fingers tracing the edges of a particularly prominent symbol.

His expression was one of intense focus, his mind racing to piece together the meaning behind the carvings.

Gran, still seated, whispered,

"What do you see?"

Machivel didn’t turn around, his eyes never leaving the wall.

"These aren’t just designs," he murmured.

"They’re runes. Whoever created this place didn’t just make it as a battleground.”

Gran frowned.

"Runes? What kind of purpose are we talking about?"

Machivel turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at Gran.

"Hard to say. But I can tell you this—this isn’t just about testing our strength. These runes are part of something larger. A mechanism, perhaps. Or a seal."

Gran stood up, gripping his sword tightly as he moved to stand beside Machivel.

"A seal? You mean something’s being contained here?"

"Possibly," Machivel replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Or it could be the opposite—something is meant to be released."

The weight of Machivel’s words hung heavily in the air.

Gran’s grip on his sword tightened, his mind racing through the implications.

"Do you think they’re watching us?" Gran asked.