“A living weapon?” Ruena questioned, her discomfort growing by the second, “Isn’t that just another word for a war slave?”

“Close, but not quite,” the Blacksmith told her, more than happy to explain his passion. Rather than the boy he seemed to have all his attention on Ruena herself. “You see slaves are people that already exist. People that have been captured. They have thoughts and memories beyond your control. A weapon must be created. It will think what you need with no room for useless compassion. Of course, I have no intention of settling for a weapon on par with a mere slave.”

“Then make your weapon elsewhere,” Ruena growled, “I have business here today.”

“Normally I would not interfere,” the Blacksmith agreed, brushing past her towards Rosalie and the boy, “However I have invested too much in Gero to let you destroy him so easily. I will at least give him a fighting chance.”

Rosalie tried to bar his path, but he sidestepped her easily and continued past both her and the boy. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Patience, Nightmare, I will deal with you soon,” the Blacksmith promised as he opened a secret door in the wall to unveil shelves full of magic batteries. Batteries powered by Soral and sold through the Belleas Company. “First, why don’t we get rid of this obnoxious anti-magic field?”

“Are you certain you wish to do that?” a beautiful but venomous woman’s voice asked from the doorway. A gorgeous woman with rose red hair and clothing stood glaring at the Blacksmith with an icy fury. Ruena was relieved when she saw Soral directly behind her. “Once I can use my magic again, I could end your life in a mere moment for what you have done to my family.”

“Venerosa?” he asked, “It is lovely to see you shining beautifully again. Unfortunately while it would be an honor to die to your poison I will have to decline. As you can see I have kept your son safe for you.”

Venerosa glanced over her son’s obvious wounds. “Is this what you consider safe? In that case I will offer you a measure of this safety before you die.”

The Blacksmith had not faltered for a moment in his assembly of the magic batteries. He even seemed to be enjoying himself. “Feel free, if you can catch me,” he replied, “I will be giving Gero one last chance to defend his trade. If he fails here, he has no further use for me.”

As he spoke he activated the crude magic surge he had assembled. There was an overwhelming sense of pressure before the field inevitably shattered and magic came rushing back in. As soon as it did, the Blacksmith was gone.

“I’ll follow him,” Soral announced.

“Not yet,” Ruena ordered, “Find out where he went without following. We need to finish what we started and prepare before taking him down.”

Soral reluctantly stood down after a quick tracing spell. “Let’s get the hostages out first. Venerosa, where would you like us to take your son?”

“I will take him,” Venerosa replied, “As much as I would love to destroy this place, Ryn takes priority.”

“We have a doctor waiting on the surface,” Ruena offered, “His six arms may be off putting but I can attest to his expertise in magical injuries.”

“I will take you up on that,” the poison dragon replied, gently picking up her son, “I do not usually offer favors but I will make an exception for you. If you ever need me, send a message to my husband in the Valen castle.”

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She still intended to keep her location secret. Ruena couldn’t blame her after all of this. With the major hostage situation taken care of, it was time to get moving. Hopefully Janon would be able to reactivate the secret weapon before the fighting began.

“Wait!” Ruena called out as she suddenly recalled something, “Venerosa, can you dispel your poison?” With magic fully returned they couldn’t risk the poison in those slave seals being activated.

“Naturally. I would not leave anything of mine in the hands of those savages,” Venerosa assured, “This is the last aid I can offer until my son is safe.”

Ruena waited until Venerosa was a safe distance away before instructing the others on their next step. “Soral, I want you on rescue duty. Once you have relocated the hostages, return to help us. Our goal is to not only capture Gero but all of his many accomplices.”

“Got it,” Soral told her and vanished after a quick salute.

It was a lot easier to launch an attack than a rescue. They had already lost the element of surprise, so there was no need to sneak or hide. This left them free to use more conspicuous weapons and attacks. The special weapons would wait until the anti-magic field came back up but they had their own magic and regular weapons to use.

Gero’s forces were weaker than expected, considering how formidable they had been in the past. It seemed he had not been able to rebuild everything to its former glory. They couldn’t let their guard down yet. Some of the guests may have already arrived and brought guards of their own. Ruena had to remind herself not to get too greedy and try to take them all down as well.

Once they made it out of the backstock halls to the grand space guests were meant to see, things got chaotic in an instant. One of the guests recognized Ruena and called out a warning to the others. Just as they were surrounded, the secret weapon activated once more, throwing them into a panic. Ruena threw herself into the fray, taking advantage of their clumsy fumbling. Take away magic and most Althaedor’s finest fighters were helpless. Why train your body when magic could do everything for you?

“Where are the guards?” one particularly portly patron shrieked, “Gero promised special protection for us today!”

“Isn’t that their leader right over there?”

Leader? Had Gero hired mercenaries on the black market? Perhaps he convinced some assassins of Qilin? No, they would not call someone other than the king their leader and Mr. Mischief had not made any such deals. Ruena nearly got caught with a knife side swipe, and forced her focus back to the battle at hand. She didn’t want to take lives, but she had brought plenty of restraints.

One of the patrons fell before a cloaked person wearing a silver mask that covered their entire face and reached out for help. “Great Warlord, help us!” she demanded. The warlord glanced down at her in silence, not even leaving their perch against the wall. “Don’t ignore me! If you don’t step in, Gero will give you nothing!”

There was a squeak as she was shoved aside. “Gero has nothing to give me whether I step in or not,” he muttered. At least Ruena assumed the voice was male. It was impossible to tell what lay under that cloak. “What a farce. The outside world is more like us than I imagined.”

Something about his words stung. A warlord from the territories of endless war was comparing all of Althaedor to them because of Gero’s greed. “Only these idiots are,” Ruena retorted as she captured yet another foolish attacker. “We only fight to put a stop to his evil.”

“That is how all wars begin,” the warlord told her, unimpressed, even as they captured their final opponent.

The largest door at the end of the hall slammed open and Gero stomped out. His furious scowl took in the scene of a completed battle where he had clearly lost. “Warlord! This is not what we agreed on!” he shouted, “A nobody upstart like you needs me to survive in that place.”

“Not anymore,” the masked warlord replied, drawing his weapon, “I already took what I needed. We never had any intention of playing hounds for an outsider. Your only choice now is whether you will fall to me or to her.”

Soral popped into existence right behind Gero, shocking everyone. Not only had he managed to teleport in despite the anti-magic field, his first choice of action was to upend a bucket of cold water over Gero’s head.