As the session concluded, Sylas gestured for Suntuzel, Sardias, and Redel to approach.

“Keep watch over them,”

Sylas ordered,

“Ensure they’re given time to recover and are not disturbed unnecessarily. We can’t afford to lose them—or anyone else—to recklessness.”

Suntuzel and others nodded,

Before dismissing them, Sylas addressed Machivel and Gran one final time.

“You’ve survived what others wouldn’t. It makes you more experienced than others.”

“Despite you guys are powerful and I created you by giving you information, especially you Machivel, you guys lacked experience.”

“Maybe, it was not bad that you needed to fight...”

The two men bowed deeply.

“We won’t fail, my lord, We continue to learn...” Machivel said.

“Never,” Gran added.

Sylas then smiled and asked.

“Do tell me about everything that happened...”

“What did guys do before transported to different place.”

Gran and Machivel stepped forward simultaneously.

Gran shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing as he gave Machivel a subtle but meaningful look.

Gran’s expression said it all:

You explain. You’re better at this than I am.

Machivel took the cue,

“My lord, It all started when we were heading to meet the designated group, as per your orders. We had just reached the door when...”

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

“When we were transported. Instantly. There was no warning, no sense of magic in the air, nothing to suggest an attack. One moment, we were in familiar surroundings, and the next, we found ourselves in an entirely foreign space.”

Sylas leaned forward slightly in his chair,

“Describe this place,” he said, his voice calm but laced with the expectation of detail.

Machivel nodded.

“It was... yellow. The entire area was suffused with a golden-yellow light. The air felt thick, almost like walking through water, but not quite. The ground beneath us wasn’t solid in the conventional sense—it shifted slightly, like standing on compacted sand that resisted every step. The walls around us weren’t natural, either. They glowed faintly, covered in strange markings, symbols I couldn’t immediately decipher.”

Sylas’s expression remained impassive, but he gestured for Machivel to continue.

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

Machivel’s tone shifted, becoming more serious.

“Not long after we arrived, they came. The Demonfire Candles. There were at least thirty, maybe forty of them. They didn’t hesitate—they attacked immediately.”

At this, Gran crossed his arms and nodded,

Machivel glanced at him briefly before continuing.

“They came at us in waves. Individually, they weren’t particularly strong, but their numbers and relentless nature made them dangerous. Their attacks were erratic, unpredictable, as if they weren’t following any specific strategy.”

Sylas raised an eyebrow.

“Erratic? So they weren’t controlled?”

Machivel shook his head.

“Not necessarily. Their movements lacked coordination, and they didn’t group up in any meaningful way. It felt more like... instinct, rather than intention. If someone sent them, they weren’t using them efficiently.”

Sylas leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly.

“Interesting. Continue.”

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

Machivel’s eyes darkened slightly as he recounted the fight.

“We had to adapt quickly. Gran held the front, engaging them in close combat, while I provided magical support. It was... chaotic. Each time we thought we’d cleared a wave, more would come, their bodies igniting as they attacked. Their flames were dangerous, but their real strength was in their numbers. They just kept coming.”

Gran finally spoke,

“It was the hardest fight of my life.”

Machivel glanced at him, nodding in agreement.

“Mine too. But we managed. We worked together, covered each other’s weaknesses. It wasn’t easy, and by the time it was over, we were both completely drained. Physically, magically... we had nothing left.”

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

Sylas’s gaze sharpened.

“And after the battle?”

Machivel hesitated for a moment, then continued.

“Once the last of them was defeated, the area fell silent. The oppressive atmosphere didn’t lift, but at least we had time to breathe. That’s when we started looking around.”

He gestured faintly, as if trying to visualize the symbols he had seen.

“The walls were covered in markings—strange, ancient runes. They weren’t any language I recognized, but there was something about them that felt... deliberate. Intentional.”

“And? Did you discover anything about them?”

Machivel shook his head,

“Not much, my lord. I tried to analyze them with my remaining energy, but I was too drained to make any real progress. The best I could do was confirm that the runes were tied to the area itself—they weren’t just decorative. They held power, though what kind, I couldn’t determine.”

Gran added,

“Machivel was the one who noticed something strange first. He pointed out the runes and told me to stay quiet. We both got the feeling that... we were being watched.”

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

Sylas’s eyes narrowed at that,

“Watched, By whom, I wonder?”

Machivel shrugged lightly.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“I can’t say for sure. We never saw anyone or anything. But the feeling was unmistakable. It was as if the space itself was alive, observing us, waiting for something.”

Sylas sat in silence for a moment, his mind clearly working through the implications.

Then he spoke again.

“And how did you escape?”

Machivel straightened slightly, a faint glimmer of pride in his eyes.

“I focused my remaining energy on the runes. It was a gamble, but I figured that if they were tied to the spell that brought us there, they might also hold the key to leaving. It took everything I had, but I managed to connect the runes, creating a thread of magical energy between them. When the connection was complete, the entire area... shattered.”

Gran chimed in, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.

“It was like glass breaking. One second we were there, and the next, we were back on the ship.”

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

Sylas nodded slowly,

“You’ve both been through more than I anticipated.”

Gran and Machivel bowed their heads slightly in acknowledgment.

“But, this incident raises more questions than it answers. They wanted you eliminated—or, at the very least, heavily injured to the point healing should take too much time..”

Machivel leaned forward slightly,

"There’s something else," he began, catching everyone’s attention.

"The runes on the walls—they weren’t just ordinary markings. They were Demonic Runes, inscribed with Elemental Bindings."

The words hung in the air like a weight, and the room seemed to still.

Sardias and Suntuzel exchanged sharp glances, while Redel straightened, visibly taken aback.

Sylas’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information.

Gran, however, looked puzzled, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"I saw the symbols, but I didn’t recognize them for what they were. What makes them so significant?"

Sylas filled Gran

"Demonic Runes alone are rare enough.”

“They require an intricate understanding of Rune Mastery—a niche expertise, even among the most skilled mages. But to bind those runes with elemental energy? That’s another level entirely. Elemental Bindings are notoriously difficult to create and even harder to weave into something as complex as Demonic Runes."

Machivel nodded in agreement,

"That’s why I realized we were dealing with something far beyond a random occurrence. Whoever created that space didn’t just have power—they had knowledge. Dangerous, specific knowledge."

Gran shifted uncomfortably,

"If this is such a big deal, why don’t I know about it? Shouldn’t we all have this kind of understanding?"

Before Sylas could respond, Suntuzel interjected, his tone calm but firm.

"When Lord Sylas created us as mages, he ensured we all had fundamental knowledge of the major magical phenomena and subjects. But there are limits. None of us were given expertise in inscribing runes or mastering elemental bindings. That level of specialization would require decades of focused study—or a lifetime, in most cases."

Gran frowned but said nothing, he was not created like others but enhanced, so he lacked in knowledge area.

Machivel continued,

"I managed to save us by connecting to the needed Elemental Bindings using my own energy. It wasn’t easy—the bindings resisted, and it felt like the entire space was fighting back. But I created chains, ropes of elemental energy, and forced a connection. Once the runes were linked, the space shattered, and we were transported back."

“Sorry that, I forget to add this detail...”

Sylas nodded slowly,

“You made the right call.”

Sylas took a deep breath, his hand moving to his chin as he leaned forward in thought.

"It could be a message, Or it could be a challenge. Either way, it’s clear that whoever casted this spell has their eyes on us. And they’re willing to use advanced magic to make their point."

Sardias folded his arms, his expression unusually grim.

"If they can create something like that, they’re not just skilled—they’re dangerous. Do we have any idea who might be behind this?"

Sylas shook his head, his frustration briefly flashing across his face before he composed himself.

"Not yet. But the use of Demonic Runes and Elemental Bindings narrows the field. There aren’t many who could pull off something like this.”

Redel, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.

"Should we prepare for the possibility of more attacks like this? If they were willing to go this far once, there’s no reason to think they won’t try again."

"Agreed," Sylas said,

"We can’t afford to let our guard down.”

Machivel glanced at Gran, then back at Sylas.

"What should we do in the meantime? If this is just the beginning, we need to be ready."

Sylas considered the question carefully before responding.

"Once you’ve recovered, we’ll regroup and strategize."

Gran finally spoke again.

"We won’t let this happen again.”

Sylas’s expression softened slightly,

"That’s the spirit. But remember: this isn’t just about brute strength. Whoever we’re dealing with is as cunning as they are powerful. We’ll need to outthink them as much as outfight them."

The room fell silent for a moment as everyone absorbed Sylas’s words.

-

Sylas continued,

“The inclusion of over forty Demonfire Candles was no coincidence. The complexity of the runes and the layers of magic within the trap suggest that this ambush was tailored for someone weaker than level four."

"Why?" Gran interjected,

"Why not target someone stronger? Why go through the trouble for something less effective?"

“If I was the enemy, I would target you...”

Sylas turned to him,

"Because a level-four mage, or anyone of my caliber, would dismantle such a trap effortlessly. The Demonfire Candles would be dealt with in seconds, and the runes deciphered with ease. It would be a waste of resources to target someone like me."

Suntuzel, standing at the back, nodded in agreement.

"If Lord Sylas had been caught in such a trap, he wouldn’t just solve the problem—he would likely render the entire setup obsolete. The energy expenditure required to ensnare him would be astronomical, and even then, the odds of success would be slim."

Machivel and Gran exchanged glances,

Machivel broke the silence.

"So, the target wasn’t someone of your level. But what does that mean for us? Are we being underestimated, or is there another layer to this?"

Sylas smiled and touched his chin as he added.

"The most likely explanation is that the trap was designed for someone closer to your level.”

Gran tilted his head, a question forming in his mind.

"And if it were you, my lord? Would you have even been pulled into the trap in the first place?"

Sylas smirked,

"No. Such a trap-spell requires a combination of magical sacrifices and complex inscriptions to function properly. It activates when a specific action occurs, such as opening a door. But the magic would be detectable to me long before I triggered it."

"How?" Gran pressed, eager to understand.

"Through the very nature of the spell,"

Sylas replied.

"A trap of this kind requires a substantial amount of dormant magical energy to remain hidden and functional. That energy leaves subtle traces in the environment—traces that someone at my level would notice instinctively. The spell would either falter in my presence, unable to sustain its concealment, or simply lack the potency to affect me."

Sardias crossed his arms,

“So, this wasn’t a direct attack against you. It was meant for someone weaker, most likely for us...”

Sylas nodded, his expression thoughtful.

"Exactly.”

Machivel, asked.

"Could it be a provocation? An attempt to gauge our response?"

"Possibly,But we won’t know for sure until we gather more information. What we do know is that whoever orchestrated this underestimates us. They didn’t account for your survival or your ability to solve their puzzle."

Gran exhaled sharply,

"So what now? Do we wait for them to strike again, or do we take the fight to them?"

Sylas’s gaze sharpened,

"For now, we wait. We don’t have enough information to act decisively, and rushing in blindly could lead to greater risks. You two will rest and recover while we analyze what we’ve learned from this encounter."

Suntuzel stepped forward, his voice steady.

"And if they do strike again, I am going to make them cry and go back to their mother...”

“If they know her obviously.”

Machivel laughed and shook his head.

Sylas dismissed them with a nod, and as they left the room, the air buzzed with a shared understanding: this was only the beginning.

-

The discussion had barely ended when a thunderous explosion rocked the ship, reverberating through every level and corridor of the Blue Hope.

The sheer force of it sent vibrations through the walls and floors, causing objects to rattle and some to fall.

Panic gripped the lower levels momentarily before discipline set in; the people aboard knew all too well that this was no accident or malfunction.

Sylas remained seated, unflinching in the face of the chaos around him.

His piercing gaze turned to his generals and masters.

"This is no ordinary assault," he said, his voice steady but sharp.

"Prepare for a full-scale battle.”