Chapter 4A:

Ren’s gut-wrenching scream had cut through the air like a haunting shriek...The sound, carried the weight of immeasurable pain.

The air hung heavy with the acrid scent of destruction as I cautiously stood up from my makeshift refuge behind the toppled pedestal. The secret chamber inside the treasury was barely damaged. The treasury itself, on the other hand…The violent aftermath of the explosion had left it in disarray - treasures now lay scattered around and broken.

My eyes scanned the chaos, searching for Ren, and I found her kneeling beside the massive, hole-filled, metal door, her eyes wide with horror, shock, and disbelief. As I rounded one of the toppled cabinets, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

There, amid the wreckage, and under the giant metal door, peeked an arm - Will’s left arm. The weight and force of the fallen doors had mercilessly crushed him against the ground, and the growing pool of blood beneath it made it obvious that there was no point in hoping for a miracle - Will was dead.

Ren’s hands, trembling with a mixture of shock and disbelief, reached out toward her brother’s hand. Desperation moved her as she clawed at the doors - a futile attempt to unearth him.

“Will! Talk to me! I’m going to get you out!” Her voice carried the cadence of denial. Each word felt like a plea against the inevitable. “Why aren’t you answering? Answer me, damn it!” Tears streamed down her cheeks freely, creating wet trails against her face.

A lump began forming in my throat as I saw the image of Ren mercilessly trying to pull her dead brother from under the metallic door. I reached my hand to her shoulder, but she knocked it off of her as she obsessively continued struggling to lift the weight of the door.

Realizing I wouldn’t be able to get her attention, I focused on the rest of the treasury, trying to find my other crewmates.

My gaze shifted toward Frenkie, who was just a few steps away from us. He was sitting with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. Mostly unscathed from what I could see. As my eyes met his, I could not shake the feeling that they were hollow. His gaze, once vibrant and expressive, now seemed vacant. It was as if the shock of the doors crashing down had imprinted a permanent picture of terror upon his consciousness. The shadows cast by the flickering torch lights played upon his face, revealing an eerily empty expression.

I immediately looked around for Elandor - he would definitely know what to do, but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was buried under all the rubble from the treasury’s front wall. I turned to Frenkie, a beacon of potential help. “Frenkie.” I called out, my voice a desperate plea, yet Frenkie remained unresponsive, lost in the depths of his own traumatized mind. The fluorite ring on his finger, a tool that could help us find Elandor, sat dormant. With a growing sense of urgency, I knelt beside him, and reached out to him gently, trying to shake him from his distant state. “Frenkie, I need your help. Elandor might be trapped under the rubble. We need to find him.” The words hung in the air, but only silence followed them. Frenkie continued to sit in a state of unresponsive shock. And Ren looked completely out of it as well. Her entire focus was on trying to save her already dead brother.

In a moment of decisive desperation, I resolved to take matters into my own hands. My fingers closed around Frenkie’s fluorite ring, snapping it from his finger.

The fluorite felt cool against my skin as I slid the ring onto my index finger.

I did not have any magical accessories of my own, but I had some experience using them in the past. So, I knew how to activate them for the most part. I focused my mind and concentrated on the ring, channelling my mana through it and enhancing my senses. The world around me shifted, as the ring began to weave its magic, powered by my mana. I felt a sudden rush of energy coursing through my veins, and I was instantly aware of every sound, smell, and sensation around me. My eyes were bombarded with an array of colors and shapes that I had never noticed before, and even the texture of the shoes and clothes I was wearing was amplified to an almost unbearable degree. For a moment, I was completely overwhelmed by the intensity of my enhanced senses, and I had to hold my breath and close my eyes to regain composure.

I focused on my hearing in order to find even the subtlest signs of breathing or heartbeat under all the wreckage, and after a few seconds, Elandor’s presence shone brightly. My enhanced hearing guided me, leading me through the destroyed treasury toward a pile of rubble where I heard him. With a mixture of trepidation and determination, I began to clear away the wreckage. The weight of responsibility pressed upon my shoulders as I uncovered him, battered but alive, his expression laced with pain.

In the midst of my rescue attempts, an unsettling voice cut through, carrying along a mocking tone. “I can’t believe they ruined my cloak.” It said.

The voice sounded young yet had a sinister cadence that slithered through the air and carried an unsettling weight. It resonated with a chilling tone; each of the words dripping with cruel amusement, as if it came straight from the depths of darkness. I instinctively raised my head to locate the source of the voice. There, outside the treasury, stood a person familiar to everyone in the kingdom. The youngest of its chosen Champions and legendary warriors - the ‘Stormbringer’ himself – Sir Leon Valter.

The boy prodigy, who became the third protector of the kingdom just last year at the very young age of sixteen, bore his pretty boy facade. With short blond hair and piercing light blue eyes, his expression was the representation of violence in its purest form. His legendary light armor clung to his body, and as the lights outside the treasury caught its gleam, it appeared to radiate light. A light blue cloak hung from his back with a visible hole etched into it, while a sword rested at his left hip. His hands were covered by black leather gloves - a tactical choice to hide the various mineral rings he wore, keeping the element of surprise on his side. He exuded an air of arrogance, his expression and comment a cruel contrast to the pain he had just wrought.

As my eyes met his, I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that he enjoyed the destruction he just delivered. His mocking words lingered, and I couldn’t understand how in the world he was chosen to become one of the kingdom’s Champions. They’ve chosen THIS to be the hero of the kingdom?

“Oh look, some survived.” he said, grinning. “Thieves are always the worst of the bunch. Like damned cockroaches they are…You just can’t get rid of them.”

Beside him I could see a man with a guard’s uniform. The golden stars on his shoulders suggested he was a high-ranking officer. His arm was wounded and bleeding, probably from Elandor’s ice attack from earlier, and he looked at the Stormbringer with an extremely disapproving look. “I don’t care that you are one of the chosen!” he shouted at him. “Do you even realize how much damage you caused to his Majesty’s treasury?”

The Stormbringer rolled his eyes and looked disinterested.

Joven was there as well, a look full of terror across his face as he hid beside the officer, surrounded by the injured or lifeless bodies of dozens of guards who got hit by Elandor’s ice.

“Don’t ignore me, you wretched hero!” the officer shouted at the Stormbringer once more.

It seemed like Leon Valter didn’t appreciate the officer’s last comment, as he quickly drew his sword and held it to the man’s throat. Small jolts of lightning danced around his blade, reminding everyone of his signature magic - the lightning of the lapis lazuli.

“Settle down, Leon.” A different voice, lower and mature, sounded through the air as another person emerged on the scene. This voice belonged to a prominent figure as well - the legendary hero, and the leader of the kingdom’s Champions, the ‘Warblade’ – Sir Alaric Belton.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

The most noticeable thing about him was his incredible height and physique. He was much taller than anyone I’d ever seen - a giant among men. He was in his forties and seemed to carry the weight of great power and experience. His demeanour exuded a stoic strength, and as he approached, an aura of authority surrounded him. His hands were covered by black leather gloves as well, while his body was clad in an impressive heavy armor that seemed to bear the marks of many battles, and his greatsword was safely attached to his back. His hair was dark brown, while his eyes, a piercing shade of steel, surveyed the disarray with restrained disappointment.

The Stormbringer hesitated, his eyes locking onto Alaric Belton’s stern gaze. The air seemed to crackle with tension, but the Warblade’s imposing figure held the young Champion at bay.

“Put your sword down.” Alaric Belton commanded him calmly, yet chillingly.

Leon Valter shrugged before speaking. “This piece of trash called me a wretched hero and you’re letting it slide?”

“Was he wrong calling you that?” Alaric Belton asked sternly. “Look at what you did to the treasury.”

A sly smile appeared on the Stormbringer’s face. “Majestic, I know.”

“One of these days, you’ll get imprisoned and executed and I won’t be helping you out.” Alaric Belton said coldly, clear disdain in his voice.

Leon Valter chuckled. “One of these days, I’ll finally drive my sword into your heart.”

The Warblade’s gaze immediately turned intense, and even though it was not directed at me, I could still feel my knees shake out of fear. The Stormbringer’s reaction was similar to mine, as his grin disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and he immediately sheathed his sword back into its scabbard, turning away from his leader, a nervous expression spread across his face.

Then, another voice pierced the atmosphere of the room. “When did Leon ever show restraint?”

This voice sounded both sincere and playful, leaving a lingering impression of charm and individualism. It belonged to the third, and last, Champion of the kingdom, and my last week’s savior, the ‘Dragon’ – Sir Axel Bane. His arrival was marked by a disarming smile that matched the flicker of flames in his red colored eyes and his long red hair. Clad in light armor as well, he was carrying two blades, both resting on his left hip. His hands were covered by some black silky gloves, while a cloak, adorned with subtle patterns resembling dancing flames, billowed behind him.

“Why do you keep on pestering me, Bane?” Leon Valter addressed his comrade, his voiced laced with anger.

Meanwhile, Elandor stirred beside me, slowly regaining his senses. “How is everyone?” he asked, his voice laden with pain, concern and worry etched across his face.

His question had sent a jolt of pain into my heart. Reminding me of the terrible fate that befell Will. “Will...He...” I couldn’t even form a sentence.

Elandor’s gaze became more intense. It seemed like he was regaining his strength by the second as he slowly stood up. The three Champions had noticed him and stopped their conversation.

“By his Majesty’s name, you are under arrest.” The Warblade exclaimed stoically. “Come out quietly and I guarantee you won’t be harmed.”

“Or don’t.” The Stormbringer laughed, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “And I will happily kill you all.”

Elandor turned his face toward the sobbing Ren and petrified Frenkie. When his eyes laid on the metal door that had crushed Will, something in his gaze shifted. It seemed broken and a single tear escaped his eye. “Will...” he whispered.

“Sir Belton, that man has a tourmaline stone. If you don’t attack - ” Joven began shouting nervously but was cut off by the Warblade who grabbed him by the head with his right hand and lifted him from the ground.

“Who is this filth and what is he doing here?” Alaric Belton asked the officer calmly, while Joven’s body dangled freely as he tried to release himself from the steel-handed grip of the Warblade.

The officer answered with a shaky voice. “H-He was our informant. He helped us navigate the thieves here into our trap, sir.”

“Informant?” Alaric Belton echoed calmly before his tone shifted into a more condescending one. “So, let’s see if I got all this right, Colonel: You agreed, willingly, to bring thieves inside his majesty’s treasury. And not just regular thieves, but ones with a tourmaline stone? Are you really that stupid? You’re lucky that my comrades and I returned from our quest earlier than expected and happened to hear all this ruckus below the palace.”

“Not a smart move.” The Dragon whispered in agreement as the shocked Colonel couldn’t even open his mouth and just buried his gaze on the ground beside the Warblade, full of shame.

The Stormbringer laughed hysterically and addressed his leader. “So, that’s what it looks from the side when you’re scolding me?”

“Sir Belton, that man was the main perpetrator of the Peltragow Mines Incident.” The Colonel finally managed to speak and pointed at Elandor. “I was willing to take risks in order to finally get him arrested.”

“Is that so?” The Warblade’s attention returned to Elandor, as he threw Joven to the ground like a ragdoll, and the latter crawled on all-fours, struggling to breathe. “The kingdom lost an important power source that day, while I lost many comrades.”

“Does that mean we’re going to kill them here and now instead of arresting them?” The Stormbringer asked, his voice sounded hopeful, but the Warblade shook his head.

“No.” Alaric Belton said, before he addressed Elandor. “I’m true to my word. You won’t be harmed as long as you all surrender.”

“Oh, c’mon.” The Stormbringer said disappointedly.

Elandor looked like he froze in place and time, watching the gruesome scenery before him. His eyes spoke of self-blame. Even though we all agreed to this, even though we all ignored his warnings and decided to proceed, even though Will himself told him that he won’t be the one to blame if anything goes wrong, he looked like he was never going to forgive himself.

Then, Ren suddenly darted from her spot. Powered by a mix of grief and rage, she discerned the source of her pain – The Stormbringer. A surge of immediate vengeance seized her, transforming her grief into determination. In a swift and resolute motion, she lunged toward a large rock next to her, clutching what looked like a hematite stone. With a primal scream, she hurled the rock at the Stormbringer, who, seemingly unfazed, met her attack with a twisted smile.

In a display of uncanny agility, he gracefully evaded the hurtling rock, and with a deft movement, he turned on his heel to catch it in mid-air behind him, his grin widening. Before Ren could register this eerie feat, he hurled the rock back at her, with unsettling precision, and with even greater force. In the blink of an eye, the projectile hurtled toward her. Yet, in that exact moment, Elandor broke free from his frozen state. He leaped in front of her, his hematite enhanced fists meeting the oncoming rock. A shockwave resonated through the treasury as Elandor’s punch collided with the rock, shattering it into tiny pieces.

Ren was not versed in the use of unrefined minerals and the consequences were not late to appear. The surge of mana through the unrefined hematite, sent her staggering backward. Losing her balance, she crumpled to the ground, her arm gradually turning an ominous shade of purple.

I quickly rushed to her side, dropping to my knees beside her. Ren’s labored breaths hinted at the pain coursing through her body, and I was unsure of what I could do to help.

The Stormbringer began laughing hysterically once more. “What a pathetic attempt!”

“It’s sad more than anything.” Axel Bane said, a disappointed expression on his face.

The Warblade sighed. “I’m willing to overlook this clear act of violence against a Champion, so long as you proceed to surrender. Now.”

Elandor looked at me, but I could not see anything beyond those eyes. It seemed like the guilt had taken a hold of him and his will to live on. He removed the tourmaline ring from his finger and threw it in my direction.

“Take her and Frenkie and get out of here.” he commanded, his eyes seemed to be reflecting both self-guilt and sacrifice. “Use the ring. Teleport away. Leave me behind.”

Why would he ask something like that? He could just teleport with us. He didn’t need to fight them, especially when the only outcome of attacking the Champions was certain death. While Elandor had only two magical rings, each of them probably had a dozen, and all three could use them simultaneously, even though the average mage could barely handle two at once.

Or perhaps that’s what he wanted…

Death.

He said he won’t be able to live with himself if something happened to us and it seemed like he was not exaggerating. Now, he was willing to throw his life away even though we still needed him.

“Elandor, no.” I pleaded. “We can still get out of here together.”

But he ignored my words and instead lunged in the Stormbringer’s direction with incredible speed and force. However, the young Champion, seasoned in combat, effortlessly sidestepped Elandor’s attack, leaving him grasping at thin air.

With a disappointed shake of his head, the Warblade’s shifted his stern gaze to Elandor. “Have fun, Leon.” he remarked, effectively directing the Stormbringer at Elandor.

Leon Valter welcomed the order with a malevolent grin, seemingly eager to unleash more destruction. He propelled himself toward Elandor with tremendous speed and in a split-second reaction, Elandor dodged backward, creating a brief distance between himself and his quick adversary, and in the same breath, activating his aquamarine ring. Ice spikes erupted from the ground beneath the Stormbringer, reaching skyward in an attempt to ensnare him. However, the boy prodigy, displayed incredible agility, and responded with a series of rapid backflips, effortlessly avoiding the icy creations that were thrust at him.

I didn’t want to leave Elandor behind, but it seemed impossible to draw his attention at the moment. So, I decided to bring Ren and Frenkie closer together, ensuring they were in the same vicinity when I finally get the opportunity to use the tourmaline ring. Frenkie didn’t look like he was going to move anytime soon - his body was present, but his mind was somewhere far away. And I lacked the physical strength to move him. Instead, I lifted the wounded Ren, who had now lost consciousness, and carried her toward Frenkie.

Suddenly, I could feel him behind us - The Warblade.