The King’s Anguish
The king stood amidst the smoldering ruins, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of his people. The air was heavy with the stench of ash and blood. Broken shields, shattered weapons, and scattered belongings lay strewn across the battlefield, a grim testament to the devastation wrought by the enemy. The once-proud city of Ignir now lay in disarray, its vibrant streets reduced to rubble.
His golden cape fluttered faintly in the breeze, a stark contrast to the deathly stillness around him. His gaze swept across the carnage, his heart burdened with a grief too great for words. He muttered, his voice trembling but resolute:
“My people… I have failed you. I, your king, the one sworn to shield you from such atrocities, have faltered.”
He raised his head to the crimson-streaked sky, his expression darkening with each passing moment. Slowly, his sorrow gave way to determination. With a single, purposeful leap, he ascended into the air. His powerful aura trailed behind him like a blazing comet as he flew toward the place he had last seen his wife and daughter.
Upon landing, his sharp eyes searched frantically, hoping to see the barrier that had once protected his family. Instead, he was greeted by emptiness—no trace of them remained. His voice thundered through the desolation, filled with desperation and dread:
“Eliana! Where are you?”
The echo of his voice faded into silence, broken only by faint sobbing. Turning sharply, he saw Hesta still encased in her barrier. She knelt on the ground, her face streaked with tears, her shoulders trembling.
“My lord,” she sobbed, her voice heavy with guilt. “I… I am so sorry. I couldn’t protect them.”
The king strode toward her, extending his hand. With a flick of his fingers, the barrier dissolved into shimmering particles of golden light. His eyes, fierce and unyielding, bore into hers.
“Hesta,” he said, his tone cold but restrained, “tell me—where are they? Speak now.”
Hesta lowered her gaze, her lips trembling. “They… they were taken, my lord. I couldn’t stop them, I failed.”
The king’s jaw tightened as his fists clenched. His piercing eyes scanned the debris, and there, on a shattered wall, he saw it:
A bold, taunting message scrawled across the stone:
"We have what is most precious to you. Do not worry; we shall take good care of them."
The king’s aura surged, golden energy crackling around him like a storm. His fury was barely contained. Closing his eyes, he whispered a single command:
“Search.”
A massive field of magic expanded from him, golden light rippling across a radius of ten kilometers. His spell detected every living creature within its reach—animals, civilians, soldiers—but not the ones he sought.
His expression darkened as he dismissed the spell. He walked slowly to a nearby rock, sitting down heavily. Resting his face in his hand, the weight of his failure threatened to crush him.
But then, beneath his palm, his expression shifted. Anguish gave way to righteous fury. He removed his hand, revealing eyes blazing with resolve. Rising to his feet, he spoke, his voice low and powerful, resonating with an unshakable promise:
“You dare to steal my sacred treasures. You desecrate my lands, slaughter my people, and now, you take my family? Let it be known that the fury of this kingdom will descend upon you like a tempest. I shall reclaim what is mine, and you will know the meaning of wrath.”
Turning to Hesta, he softened his tone only slightly, though his determination remained unshaken. “Hesta, wipe away your tears. There is work to be done. Summon the nobles, generals, commanders, and advisors. We must convene immediately.”
---
The Council Chamber
The council chamber was a grand and imposing room, its high domed ceilings adorned with intricate golden carvings depicting the triumphs of Ignir throughout history. Massive windows allowed moonlight to filter in, casting an ethereal glow on the polished marble floors.
At the center of the chamber sat a large, circular table where the king, his advisors, generals, and commanders were gathered. Surrounding the table were elevated rows of seats for the nobles, their murmurs filling the room like restless whispers.
Hesta stood silently behind the king, her posture rigid despite the disapproving glances cast her way.
“Why is that girl always here?” one noble whispered harshly.
“This is proof the king no longer trusts us,” another muttered under his breath.
The king, his hands interlocked before him, raised his gaze. His voice cut through the noise like a blade:
“We stand at the precipice of calamity,” he began, his tone commanding immediate silence. “Ignir has been desecrated, our people butchered, and my family stolen from under my protection. How shall we address this atrocity? Speak.”
An advisor with silver hair and a shrewd expression leaned forward. “My king, this is undoubtedly the work of the Unbound. Who else would dare such madness?”
A towering general with a broad chest and weathered features slammed a fist on the table. “The Unbound are too many. We need to pinpoint which faction is responsible before we act.”
A hawk-eyed woman, another advisor, interjected. “We mustn’t ignore the possibility of outside influence. The Readez Kingdom has long harbored enmity toward us. It is not unthinkable that they hired the Unbound to weaken us.”
A nobleman rose from the benches, his voice sharp and accusatory. “How did they even enter Ignir? What have you been doing, Commander of Security? You’ve clearly failed in your duties.”
The commander of security, a lean yet imposing man with a steely gaze, crossed his arms and replied evenly, “How they breached our borders, let alone the heart of our city, remains a mystery to me. There were no signs of infiltration.”
The king raised a hand, silencing the room. His gaze was cold and calculating. “I saw one of them vanish into something—black, with bluish lights surrounding it. It was as though the very fabric of space had been torn apart. I surmise that this is how they entered unnoticed. These are no ordinary foes.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling heavily over the assembly.
---
Kaelan’s Pursuit
In a barren clearing outside the city, Kaelan knelt on one knee, his keen eyes scanning the ground for signs of movement. His fingers brushed over a set of footprints leading away from the scene. Rising slowly, his gaze followed the trail to a set of deep tire tracks a few meters ahead.
“Kruiser tracks?” he muttered under his breath. “Out here?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Turning his head, he noticed a long crater etched into the earth—the aftermath of Festron’s dramatic attempt to catch the stone.
“This must be where they switched transportation,” he concluded.
Rising to his full height, he began following the trail with deliberate steps, his mind focused on uncovering the truth.
---
The Kruiser’s Interior
Inside the moving kruiser, Ziraiah stirred from her restless sleep. Blinking groggily, she awoke to the sound of voices.
“I don’t remember a mission about freeing Earthers,” Festron remarked casually, lounging in his seat.
“That’s because it’s my mission,” Anuel replied from the helm, her tone calm but firm. “You’re just tagging along.”
Festron grinned. “Sounds like fun.”
As Ziraiah sat up abruptly, Lisa let out a startled yelp. “Aahh!”
Festron laughed, pointing mockingly. “Look at you—scared of an Earther!”
Ziraiah’s gaze darted around the kruiser before she finally spoke. “Who are you people? What do you want from me?”
Festron, ever casual, pointed at each of them. “Festron, Lisa, Anuel. What’s your name?”
Ziraiah remained silent, her distrust evident.
Anuel glanced back briefly. “Be friendly, Festron. She’ll be one of us soon enough.”
Lisa frowned. “Why? Earthers are useless. What could she possibly do?”
Anuel’s tone was sharp. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Ziraiah’s thoughts raced, piecing together fragments of memory and speculation.
This woman... she saved me—or more like kidnapped me. But she didn’t hurt me, which means she needs me. Why?
Her mind drifted to the ancient language on the stone, and a chilling realization struck her. No way… could she be interested in Mom’s language? The Elf man said no one on Yilheim could understand it. If that’s true… only my brothers and I can speak it.
Her fists tightened. Were they kidnapped too?
She recalled her mother’s cryptic stories about her family, the insistence on learning complex languages. Mom’s from Yilheim. She’s one of them…
Her thoughts turned to her father. What would Dad think if he found out? He wasn’t even there when we disappeared… he must be so worried.
---
Arrival at the Cliffs
The night was serene, with a cool breeze rustling through the trees, carrying the faint scent of the sea. The kruiser slowed to a halt atop a high cliff overlooking the breathtaking expanse of Ignir. Anuel stepped out first, her sharp gaze scanning the vista before her.
Ignir was a sight to behold. The town was 80% surrounded by glimmering water, which reflected the countless glowing runes etched into the buildings and trees. These runes shimmered with soft, multicolored light, illuminating the area like a dreamscape. The lights of the town seemed to dance on the surface of the water, creating an ethereal glow that stretched far into the distance.
“Look at that,” Festron said, leaning on the edge of the cliff. His voice held an uncharacteristic note of awe. “Ignir really is a jewel.”
Lisa stepped up beside him, squinting at the distant view. “Where are the Earthers?”
Anuel pointed toward a dense forest just beyond the town. The forest was surrounded by a towering wall constructed from ice and wood, its imposing height a testament to the effort that went into its creation. “There,” she said, her tone clipped. “One million Earthers, though I suspect the number has dwindled thanks to the wildlife.”
Lisa frowned, her analytical mind already calculating the sheer scope of what she was seeing. “How did they build a wall that large?”
“It must have been a high-level magic user,” Festron suggested, his voice casual.
“Or just a collective effort,” Anuel added. “Desperation can make people resourceful.”
Lisa tilted her head. “The forest makes the town look tiny in comparison. It must span for miles.”
“Lisa, make us a boat,” Anuel commanded, shifting her focus. “We’ll use that stream over there to bypass the town and head straight to the forest. If I were alone, I’d simply run across the water, but Dreados insists you all need experience.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Run on water? You can actually do that?”
Anuel smirked, her confidence palpable. “Of course. It’s not as hard as it sounds—if you have the speed and control.”
With a nod of acknowledgment, Lisa walked to the edge of the stream. She closed her eyes, her hands outstretched as she began to chant softly. “Concentrate. Visualize the form.”
Before she could complete her spell, Festron leaned in close, his mischievous grin unmistakable. “Yes, visualize it well,” he teased, his face mere inches from hers.
Lisa’s concentration snapped as she opened her eyes, glaring at him. “Stop it, Festron!”
“Fine, fine,” Festron replied, stepping back, though his grin didn’t falter.
Lisa shook her head, muttering under her breath as she began again. “Concentrate. Visualize the form. Collect Mana. Input its mechanism. Manifest.”
The nearby trees groaned as their wood began to reshape itself. Branches twisted and merged, forming the sleek outline of a boat. Slowly but surely, the boat took shape—a perfectly crafted vessel with smooth edges, glowing runes along its surface, and a large propeller at its stern.
Anuel nodded approvingly. “Good job.”
Without further delay, Anuel walked toward the kruiser and tapped its side. Turning to Ziraiah, she said, “Get out, little girl.”
Ziraiah hesitated, her feet rooted in place.
Anuel’s patience waned, and she struck the kruiser harder. The sound reverberated through the air. “I said, get out, or I’ll come and get you myself.”
Reluctantly, Ziraiah stepped out, her movements slow and unsure. As soon as she did, the kruiser began to shrink, its panels folding inward with mechanical precision. Within moments, it transformed into a small, toy-like object. Anuel picked it up and placed it in her bag.
“Put the boat in the water,” she commanded, gesturing toward Festron.
Festron picked up the lightweight vessel with ease, carrying it to the stream and setting it down. The boat floated effortlessly, its sleek design cutting through the gentle current.
Anuel, Festron, and Lisa climbed aboard with practiced ease. Ziraiah, however, remained on the shore, her hesitation evident.
Anuel rolled her eyes, exasperation creeping into her voice. “Lisa.”
Lisa smirked knowingly and waved her hand. A strong gust of wind surged forward, sweeping Ziraiah off her feet and depositing her unceremoniously into the boat.
Ziraiah stumbled but managed to steady herself, shooting Lisa an annoyed glare.
Lisa placed her hand on the boat’s edge, her fingers glowing faintly as the runes activated. The propeller hummed to life, and the boat surged forward, gliding across the stream with impressive speed.
Anuel stood at the helm, her eyes focused on the path ahead. The glow of Ignir’s lights reflected off the water, creating a mesmerizing display that danced around them as they traveled.
“Hold tight,” Anuel said, her voice steady but commanding. “The real work begins soon.”
---
The Unbound’s Hideout
Hours earlier, in a vast chamber carved from black stone, the hideout of the Unbound buzzed with activity. The vaulted ceilings were adorned with glowing runes that pulsed faintly, illuminating the room in an eerie blue light. The air hummed with a mix of voices and footsteps as beings of various races moved about, each with their own tasks and conversations.
A portal roared to life in the center of the room, its edges crackling with arcs of electric-blue energy. From its swirling depths, Gustein’s barrier tumbled out, rolling to a halt with a thunderous crash. Moments later, Valerius and Eryndor were flung unceremoniously onto the cold, polished floor, their bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds.
Dreados stepped through the portal, his entrance deliberate and commanding. He straightened his coat and surveyed the room, his sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered Unbound. His presence alone was enough to silence nearby conversations as heads turned in his direction.
Before the portal could fully close, another swirled to life beside it. From its depths, Silvie came tumbling out, landing in an awkward heap. She scrambled to her feet, her disorientation evident as she brushed herself off.
Dreados’s lips curved into a sly smile as he addressed her. "Well, look at that—you succeeded" he said, his tone carrying a mix of mockery and approval.
Before he could say more, the room shook violently. Another barrier hurtled through the same portal Dreados came through, crashing into the wall with a deafening impact. The force of the collision sent cracks spidering across the stone surface, filling the air with dust.
Dreados sidestepped the incoming barrier with inhuman speed, his movements precise and unhurried. The room fell silent as Beily emerged from the portal, his towering form striding toward Dreados.
“Mission success,” Beily declared proudly.
Dreados’s expression darkened, and with a swift motion, he slapped Beily across the face. The sound echoed through the chamber. “Why did you throw it?” he snapped. “Look at the damage you’ve caused!”
Beily rubbed his cheek, muttering an apology. “Sorry…”
The tension was broken by the arrival of Sumshus, who stumbled through yet another portal. “That Elf King,” he muttered, his voice shaking. “I almost died out there. He’s terrifying.”
A woman with light brown skin and glowing blue wings entered from a nearby hallway. Her voice rang out cheerfully. “Dreados’s team is back! Hey, everyone!”
The room erupted into chatter as members of the Unbound gathered around, their curiosity palpable.
Meanwhile, the red-skinned Omfry stepped forward. Without hesitation, he placed both hands on the queen’s barrier, his immense strength shattering it effortlessly. The shards dissolved into the air as the queen and her daughter collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Dreados turned sharply. “Omfry,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "These hostages are of considerable value."
Omfry stepped closer, his towering 10'2" frame slightly overshadowing Dreados's 9'10" stature. The tension in the room was palpable as their gazes locked, their sheer presence commanding the attention of everyone around them.
After a long pause, they both smirked and raised their arms, performing a powerful dap. The force of their grip sent a shockwave through the room, and the gathered Unbound erupted into cheers.
“You bastard,” Omfry said with a wide grin. “You really did it.”
---
To Be Continued…