Suntuzel and Sardias received the final report confirming that Machivel and Gran had been found.
Their orders were clear: escort them directly to Lord Sylas to ensure they were untainted by any curses, control, or residual magic.
Sardias, as usual, was the first to break the silence.
“Well, looks like they survived. Shame. I was almost enjoying the thought of a quieter ship,” Sardias joked with a crooked grin.
Machivel, standing tall despite his visible exhaustion, let out a dry chuckle.
“I’m too stubborn to give you that peace, Sardias.”
Gran, as stoic as ever, merely smirked,
Suntuzel said nothing as he surveyed Machivel and Gran, his hawk-like gaze searching for any subtle signs of change or compromise.
He seemed satisfied enough to stay silent, but his tense posture spoke volumes.
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With the group now assembled, the escort began.
Sardias and Redel took the lead,
Machivel and Gran followed closely, walking side by side,
Suntuzel brought up the rear, his eyes darting occasionally to the walls and ceilings, ever vigilant for unseen threats.
Sardias glanced over his shoulder, his grin widening.
“You know, Machivel, I half expected you to come back with fewer limbs. Maybe some scorch marks. But here you are, looking almost polished. What’s your secret?”
Machivel smirked, keeping his eyes forward.
“Resilience, Sardias. Something I’m sure you lack.”
Gran chuckled softly at the jab,
Sardias feigned a wounded expression, clutching his chest dramatically.
“Resilience? Please. I’ve got enough of that to endure your smugness for a lifetime.”
Redel cut in, his tone sharp but amused.
“Focus, Sardias. The sooner we get them to Sylas, the sooner you can resume your usual antics.”
Sardias waved a dismissive hand but said nothing more, his grin lingering as they continued down the corridor.
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After what felt like an eternity, the group reached the room and entered slowly.
At the center of the room sat Sylas,
Machivel and Gran felt the weight of his eyes immediately.
It was not an unkind look, but one that scrutinized, analyzed, and understood more than any words could convey.
Sardias and Suntuzel stepped aside, taking their places near the walls, while Redel remained standing at attention near Sylas’s side.
Sylas leaned forward slightly, breaking the silence.
“Machivel. Gran. It’s good to see you both... intact.”
Machivel inclined his head respectfully.
“My lord, it’s good to be back.”
Gran added, his voice steady,
“We encountered some problems, but we’ve returned as promised.”
Sylas nodded,
“Problems, indeed. And yet, I cannot ignore the possibility that you might have brought more than yourselves back with you. Step forward.”
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Machivel and Gran exchanged a brief glance before stepping closer to Sylas’s chair.
Sylas stood, his presence seeming to grow larger, more imposing.
He extended a hand, his fingers glowing faintly with magical energy.
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“Machivel, you first,” Sylas instructed,
Machivel stepped forward without hesitation.
Sylas placed his glowing hand over Machivel’s chest, the light intensifying as he closed his eyes in concentration.
The room fell silent, the hum of magical energy filling the air.
Moments passed before Sylas opened his eyes, his hand lowering.
“You are clear of curses or control. Your magical essence remains untampered. Well done, Machivel.”
Machivel nodded, stepping back as Gran took his place.
Sylas repeated the process, his hand glowing as he scanned Gran.
The same tense silence filled the room as everyone watched intently. After a moment, Sylas withdrew his hand.
“Gran, you are also good...”
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Sylas then went back to his chair and sat down, after taking a deep breath he turned his attention back to the group as a whole.
“Suntuzel. Sardias. Redel. You’ve done well to ensure their safe return. But this matter is far from over. We must be vigilant.”
Sardias spoke first.
“Well, as long as they don’t aim for me next, I’ll sleep just fine.”
Suntuzel shot him a withering look, and Sardias shrugged with a smirk.
Sylas allowed the moment of levity but quickly refocused the group.
“For now, we regroup. Machivel, Gran, you’ll both rest and recover. Redel, Sardias, Suntuzel—double the security around the ship and monitor all magical channels. I want no surprises.”
The group nodded.
-
Sylas then looked at Gran and Machivel again added.
He inclined his head slightly and gestured for the others in the room—Suntuzel, Sardias, and Redel—to move aside.
“Leave us for a moment,” Sylas commanded, his voice even but firm. “I need to to speak and examine them using different technique.”
The three obeyed without hesitation.
All three of them wondered why Lord Sylas needed to speak them personally or scan them again but they did not had to guts ask about it.
In the end, as long as Lord Sylas gives an order anything else is not important.
Sylas then turned his attention fully to Machivel and Gran. His tone softened, but only slightly.
“I’m going to scan you both now. Is that acceptable?”
“This time it will be not just your body and magical areas, but also soul and mind.”
The question hung in the air for a moment, not as a request but more as a test.
Sylas wasn’t seeking permission—he had no need for it.
He was gauging their reactions, looking for cracks in their demeanor that might reveal hidden truths.
Machivel was the first to respond.
“Of course, my lord. It’s only natural that you ensure we’re not compromised. A simple bodily check and magic check may not be enough”
Gran nodded in agreement, his tone mirroring Machivel’s.
“We wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Sylas smiled faintly.
Their answers pleased him—not just because of their compliance but because of their sincerity.
Trust and loyalty were the bedrock of his Masters, and in this moment, both men affirmed their devotion.
“Good,” Sylas said simply, leaning forward.
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Sylas closed his eyes, his mind focusing as he activated his most powerful and unique ability: Reality Deciphering.
This skill, the cornerstone of his immense strength, allowed him to perceive the fabric of existence itself, unraveling truths hidden within energy, matter, and even the intangible forces of magic.
A grayish aura began to emanate from Sylas, swirling around him like a living mist.
The energy stretched outward, expanding in delicate tendrils that wrapped around Machivel and Gran.
The two men stood still,
The process was silent, but its intensity was almost suffocating.
Even from the edges of the chamber, Suntuzel and the others could feel the weight of Sylas’s power pressing down on the space.
Sylas opened his eyes, now glowing faintly with the gray light of his ability.
His gaze sharpened as he examined every thread of energy connected to Machivel and Gran.
He could see their magical essence, the delicate currents of life force flowing through their bodies, and even the faint remnants of the transportation spell that had displaced them.
Seconds stretched into an eternity before Sylas spoke.
His voice broke the silence like a blade slicing through fog.
“It seems... that there is nothing overtly wrong with you. No curses, no mind-control spells, and no residual enchantments designed to influence your actions.”
Gran exhaled softly, and Machivel’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
“But, you are both depleted. Severely so. Both your magical energy and physical stamina are drained to their limits."
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Gran and Machivel exchanged a glance before nodding.
“It was the most intense battle we’ve faced together. Those Demonfire Candles were relentless, my lord. Their coordination, their sheer numbers—it was unlike anything I’ve encountered before.”
Gran chimed in,
“They pushed us to our limits, but we didn’t yield. Not for a second.”
Sylas’s faint smile returned.
He appreciated their resolve, but he also saw the toll it had taken.
“Your efforts are commendable,”
Sylas said and added.
“You’ve both proven your worth time and time again.”
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“You’ll both need time to recover, Physically, magically, and mentally. Machivel, you’re sharp enough to know that running on fumes is a liability.”
Machivel nodded.
“Understood, my lord.”
“And Gran,You may not say much, but I can see the exhaustion in your movements. Rest is not a sign of weakness. It’s preparation for the battles ahead.”
Gran inclined his head.
“I’ll rest, my lord. But only until I’m ready to fight again.”
Sylas allowed himself a small laugh.
“Spoken like a true warrior.”