“We must hurry.” Aldric leant heavily on his cane, his face etched with pain as he strode uphill toward the demon lord’s keep.

Hump followed, his party with him, and Nishari at his side. The Blackthorne Company trailed behind them, a mixture of confusion and excitement amongst the ranks. They did not yet know what had happened. Marcela’s party soon followed, shouting orders for the Sheercliff Company to gather their weapons and come with them. Hump caught the unhappy mutterings of the soldiers—he couldn’t blame them. They’d survived the battle and victory was had, what more could be asked of them now?

It was a long way up to the demon lord’s keep at the heart of the citadel—there, they would find the captured dungeon core. Built against the mountains, the keep towered over the rest of the citadel, and Hump was starting to feel every step of the climb. Every time Hump looked up, he saw the fading red sky as the dungeon continued to die. In the back of Hump’s mind, he feared it might collapse with them still inside, though for a pocket dimension of this size to completely fade it would likely take weeks.

The narrow streets were laced with bodies, both those of demons and of people. The route was cramped, tall, fat buildings lining either side of the road, blocking them into spaces Hump really didn’t want to fight in. Yet no attack came. From the glimpses Hump got of the rest of the citadel, what fighting remained had moved toward the walls. It seemed that other than the demons drawn to the marketplace, most were trying to escape the deteriorating dungeon, yet remained trapped within the prism of Byzantius that General Korteg had surrounded Hell’s Pocket in. All that awaited the demons beyond its walls were the manned fortifications of the army’s encampment, along with a whole lot of trebuchets.

“What in the world is going on?” Marcela whispered at Hump, catching up at his side.

As they made their way through the demon streets, Hump caught Marcela and his party up on his encounter with Karlac, and the windows into Alveron that had been shown to him: the battles raging across the kingdom’s cities. All cheer was gone by the end of it.

“Can we really trust something a demon told you?” Bud asked.

“We don’t have the luxury not to take this seriously,” Aldric said. “I hope he lied, and this will all be for nothing, we’ll arrive expecting war and be greeted with a warm meal, but if there’s even a chance this is true, we must act on it.”

“You said that you didn’t see Sheercliff in the windows?” Marcela asked.

Hump shook his head. “No, Sheercliff wasn’t amongst them. I think because the Seal of Osidium was already broken it was not targeted.”

Marcela let out a breath. “That’s some small solace. I know it’s selfish of me.”

“Not at all,” Bud said. “It’s natural to care for one’s home. And all is not lost. The warlocks may have attacked the other cities, but they failed in Fort Nordric, and they will fail again.”

“I have to agree,” Dylan said. “There are many more powerful Chosen out there. We were caught off guard in Sheercliff, but there has been time to prepare since then.”

“I hope so,” Marcela said. “The kingdom has its armies, and the Pantheon has its Chosen. But we do not have enough eighth circle Chosen to defend every city.”

“Elenvine will stand, though,” Len said. “Neither the Hand of Lady Light nor the Son of Avaroth will leave the capital. There is nothing that can stand against them.”

The two Chosen of the ninth circle—the only two Alveron had.

“How could they possibly assault a city with two Chosen of the ninth circle?” Emilia asked. “Surely there is nothing that can defeat them.”

“We saw the strength of the warlock, Anthony, already,” Hump said. “He was at least a Rank 8 practitioner. It’s possible there are members even more powerful than him within the Order of Ancients.”

“Order of Ancients?” Bud asked.

“That’s what the demon, Karlac, called them,” Celaine said.

“Isn’t that just lovely.”

Yet that was not all.

Hump remembered the shadow of the titan he’d seen through the rift of the great Tree of Damnation atop Sheercliff. The first servant of Uvdar, Baelkor. A being that may very well be beyond the strength of any Chosen to stop. If such a foe had entered their world, perhaps the seals truly were lost.

Starick’s warning whispered in Hump’s head. Was this the beginning of the next War of the Firmament?

His mind went to the scene he’d witnessed upon staring into the eye of Irlia’s father. The scale of such a battle. If the warlocks summoned forces that could rival it, Alveron may truly stand no chance.

They had to be stopped.

“Even knowing this, what can we do?” Emilia said. “We’re in the Fallen Lands. It would take us weeks to reach Elenvine.”

“Weeks to reach anywhere south of Fort Nordric,” Dylan added.

“However long it takes, Alveron needs us,” Bud said.

The streets wound upward, and Hump felt the strain on his body. It had been a long day. For all his dragon-blooded strength, he’d used so much essence there wasn’t much left in him.

Soon, they reached the remains of a large battle near the demon lord’s keep. They were high over the city now, following a single path. Demons littered it, their bodies oozing blood onto the main street. The keep wall loomed ahead, tall and dark, made of black stone and enchanted with demonic power, but it had not saved it. The gates were open, smashed from their hinges and left in ruin upon the courtyard within. More demons were there, all dead—the army of Alveron had taken no prisoners. The scene of burning and blood filled the air as Hump stepped inside. His eyes roamed over the people rushing through the courtyard. Medical teams worked hard to tend the wounded, while servants of Rathlar gathered the dead, conducting rituals to help their souls find the way home.

It had been a fierce melee. Hump could tell by the many dead soldiers—many had blacked skin, no doubt devastatingly wounded in the assault of the keep. Glancing back the way they had come, he imagined a narrow line of soldiers trying to force their way inside. There was only one method that could have worked—a concentration of Chosen led by Count Daston and General Korteg. Only such a force could brute force this, as such narrow paths wouldn’t allow for siege equipment or numbers to truly play a role, and the keep was too high on the mountain for their trebuchets to reach.

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Hump stepped over the bodies of demons as he made his way toward the manor built into the mountain. Blood squelched beneath his steps. At the centre of the courtyard, an enormous demon’s severed head barred the way, the ground around it slick with dark, congealing blood. Its eyes, clouded and lifeless, had rolled back into its skull, and its bloated tongue hung limply from slack jaws. The creature’s skin was a sickly shade of mottled purple, its horns jagged, with one cracked in half. Even in death, it exuded raw malice.

The head alone was taller than Hump, while its colossal body sprawled across the left side of the courtyard, blocking passage entirely. Its once-mighty limbs now lay crumpled like fallen trees. For a brief moment, Hump found himself wondering how such a beast had met its end. But the answer came quickly—the image of General Korteg’s great sword flashed in his mind. A weapon that would have made quick work of even a demon this formidable. A greater demon, reduced to nothing more than monstrous ruin.

“And I thought trolls were ugly,” Celaine said.

“He wasn’t a pretty fellow was he,” Dylan said.

Marcela called to an officer, who directed them inside. The group entered the manor—a fortress of black stone pressed directly against the mountain’s face. Inside, more soldiers were stationed, standing guard over the halls strewn with the bodies of demons. The contrast was striking: the manor’s lavish interior spoke of wealth and royalty, with its grand tapestries, golden essence stone hangings, and richly carved furniture. It felt more like a residence of a king than the heart of a dungeon. But as they delved deeper, that grandeur faded.

The walls shifted, transforming into that same unsettling pale pink that Hump remembered from Bledsbury. It was eerily like entering the belly of a great beast, except the light in these walls was fading, just as the red sky.

Soon, they came upon a large gathering of soldiers, standing in tense clusters. The atmosphere had shifted entirely; gone were the sounds of the citadel. They were deeper within the mountain now, where the air was heavy with a sense of foreboding. This was more like the dungeon Hump expected to find.

As they approached, Wizard Aldric was recognised immediately, and they were guided toward the core chamber. The soldiers parted to let them through, and Hump felt the weight of their gazes as they passed. There was an urgency here—one that made his skin crawl. These were not the faces of soldiers celebrating victory.

Here, the similarities to Bledsbury Dungeon ended. The grand doors opened to reveal a massive, rounded chamber. The walls shimmered, faceted like a gemstone, polished to a gleaming finish that reflected the fading light of the dungeon’s essence. It felt like stepping inside a living heartstone. Above, a gaping hole in the ceiling reached all the way to the top of the mountain, like the throat of a volcano, offering a glimpse of the darkening sky.

At the chamber’s centre stood General Korteg and Count Daston, their figures stiff with tension. They stood before a black stone pedestal where the dungeon core had once been mounted. Now it was empty. Chosen rushed around them, their expressions grim. It was then that Hump noticed the cleanliness of the room. There were no signs of battle, no blood, no demon lord or defeated guardians. And most importantly, no dungeon core.

“My dear girl,” Count Daston called, his voice filled with forced cheer. He smiled at Marcela, but there was no joy in his eyes. His smile faltered as he noticed the troubled look on her face. “What is it?”

“This was a trap, Father,” Marcela said. “Hump and Celaine encountered a demon named Karlac that revealed it. The warlocks have travelled to Alveron. Our cities are under attack as we speak!”

“Dammit,” General Korteg snarled, pounding the pedestal with a heavy fist, the chamber boomed. “Gods help us, it’s even worse than we feared.”

“Everything was too easy after all,” General Korteg said with a sigh. “The demon lord escaped—I say escaped, but this was all part of their plan, wasn’t it? We did not even claim the dungeon core, they took it!”

“Now we know what they’re after,” Count Daston said. “There is only one reason that both demons and warlocks would target our cities. They are after the seals.”

“Indeed. We must move quickly. It will take weeks for us to return to Fort Nordric, let alone provide support for the other cities.” The general turned to Hump. “You must tell me everything you saw, Wizard. Everything.”

Hump nodded. “Of course, sir.”

Once more, he recounted what he’d witnessed through the windows Karlac had shown him. Cities ravaged by fire, people running through the streets in terror. Ten cities were targeted—only Sheercliff City and Fort Nordric spared the wrath of the warlocks. As Hump finished, the leaders were drawn into intense discussion, debating how soon to get the army moving and whether to send a task force ahead to reinforce Fort Nordric in case it came under attack again.

It was then that Hump’s attention was drawn to Celaine as she wandered away from them, kneeling near the edge of the chamber and inspecting something on the ground. “Hump, look at this,” she called urgently.

He hurried over, his eyes narrowing as he studied the intricate formation etched onto the floor. It was the outer rim of a massive formation, the lines glowing faintly in the dim light. Recognition struck him—while far larger, it was almost identical to the teleportation formation they’d encountered under Fort Nordric, where they had battled the warlocks before.

His spellbook shook and he opened it.

SPELLBOOK

Greater Gateway

Unknown | Formation | Unknown | Unknown

Description

Unknown

It was so similar to the Infernal Gateway spell formation the warlocks had used before. Perhaps its target location was different, and it was certainly larger, but the flow of essence and intent were so similar.

“Can you activate it?” Celaine asked.

Hump hesitated, weighing the risk. Not just of failure, but of where it might take him and his friends. They could arrive on the frontlines of a city-destroying battle. They could arrive at the feet of a titan. It could take them anywhere, and he knew just what terrifying forces lay beyond the rifts of these warlocks. While he could not read the runes, he could see the intent through which they were cast. He could read the essence as it passed through the many channels, fuelling the spell and bringing it to life. It was not a complex magic, simply a large one. Given the necessary essence stones, he saw no reason he couldn’t activate it again.

The others had gathered round, a very concerned Bud looking on with unease. “You’re suggesting we utilise warlock magic?”

Hump nodded. “We don’t have time to travel weeks on foot. This might be our only option.”

“We have to do this, Bud,” Emilia said.

“Yeah,” Dylan said. “If Hump can open it, it’s not even a question. I’m sure the gods will understand.”

Bud drew in a deep breath and nodded. “As am I.”

“Rather than understand, it would be nice if they’d protect Alveron for us so that we didn’t have to,” Hump said. “Clearly, they’ve yet to get the message.”

“They shall act through us,” Bud said.

“You always know how to put me at ease,” Hump said, and they shared a strained smile. He stood, searching for Wizard Aldric before calling him over. “If I do, there’s no knowing what we encounter. The riftwalker from Bledsbury. Baelkor, First Servant of Uvdar. An entire army. It could be anything on the other side.”

Celaine took his hand and squeezed. “Alveron is not my kingdom, Hump, but it is yours. People are dying—innocent children. I’ve seen you risk more for less.”

Hump sighed deeply, squeezing her hand back. “I can do it. I think. If everyone’s in agreement?”

He received four nods, and a very confused look from Nishari. He supposed that was it. Decision made. Now all that was left was to convince the people in charge to entrust their army to a warlock spell… That was, if he could get it working at all.

Hump turned to where the general, Count Daston, Wizard Aldric, and a number of the other most powerful people were in tense discussion.

“I think I can activate this formation,” Hump said.

The discussion continued, but for Wizard Aldric who looked to Hump. “What did you say, lad?”

Hump cleared his throat and spoke louder, “I might be able to activate the formation. It’s similar to the one we found beneath Fort Nordric. If it works, we could follow the warlocks directly to Alveron.”

Silence stole the room as all eyes settled on Hump.