Lancey stood before the heavily-guarded central spire of the Four Seasons Garden's headquarters, a structure that pulsed with the collective mana of dozens of high-ranking Magi.
After a rigorous security screening, she was granted entrance and led into an office where the very furniture seemed to be alive, grown from enchanted flora into ergonomic shapes.
Seated behind a desk of petrified oak was Reynold, the Chairman of the Four Seasons Garden. He was a Rank 2 Magus, his white hair meticulously groomed and his sharp eyes framed by gilded spectacles.
"Lord Reynold!" Lancey bowed with practiced grace.
Behind those gold-rimmed glasses, Reynold's pupils brimmed with a terrifying depth of wisdom. He fixed his gaze upon her, his eyes occasionally flashing with a cold, lingering distrust that felt like a physical weight in the room.
"Magus Evans," Reynold began, his voice light and airy after a long, silent observation. "Your accomplishments at Zone 13 have not gone unnoticed. The elders and I have reviewed your performance."
He leaned back, the plant-formed chair creaking softly. "We all agree that wasting your talent as a mere static guard is an inefficiency the Garden cannot afford. You deserve a role that allows your true abilities to flourish."
"I thank the elders for their trust," Lancey replied, her voice level. "I will work tirelessly in whatever capacity the organization requires."
"Very good!" Reynold nodded, his quill scratching across an official parchment. "Lancey Evans, I hereby appoint you the Vice Team Leader of the Hunting Team. You will serve as the direct subordinate of Caesar. You are to retrieve your specific mission briefings from him."
'Under Caesar...' Lancey's mind immediately conjured the image of the arrogant, three-eyed Magus. It seemed her fate was intertwined with his, not that she minded. Being his shadow would provide the perfect opportunity to ensure he eventually met a quiet, permanent end.
"What's wrong? Do you have any objections?" Reynold asked, his voice dripping with feigned concern.
Suddenly, a faint, invisible ripple of spiritual force dithered about Lancey. It was a subtle probe, a mental hook designed to snag her true emotions. To a normal Magus, it would have been undetectable, but the Mini-Chip in her mind immediately pulsed a warning.
[Beep! Alert: External Spiritual Probe Detected. Target: Chairman Reynold. Status: Cloaking emotional fluctuations... Success.]
"It's nothing," Lancey spoke indifferently, her face remaining as smooth as marble.
"Good!" Reynold beamed, his smile wide as if he were entirely unaware of the enmity between Lancey and the man he was pairing her with.
"I will see myself out then." Lancey took the document of appointment and retreated from the office, her expression unreadable until the heavy doors clicked shut behind her.
Inside the office, Reynold's smile vanished. He tapped his cane against the floor.
Thud! Thud!
The dull knocking echoed, and the bookcase to his left groaned as it split open. Countless vines uncoiled, revealing a pitch-black passageway. A Magus stepped out, clad in black robes adorned with vibrant, blood-red flowers. His most striking feature was the vertical third eye embedded in his forehead, which twitched with a restless hunger.
"Caesar. The girl is yours," Reynold said.
"Naturally." Caesar's lips curled into a bloodthirsty smirk. "I am extremely interested in how she managed to surge in strength so rapidly. A few months ago, she was nothing; now, she's holding frontlines."
Reynold shook his head, his fingers steepled. "I examined her essence just now. Her conversion is around 50%. Given that she used her contribution points to exchange for a massive amount of crystallized elemental particles, it is highly likely she has forcefully accelerated her growth at the cost of her future potential. A common folly of the desperate."
"Shall I probe for her secrets once she's in the field?" Caesar asked, his third eye dilating.
"En... but do not do anything excessive that might draw the council's ire," Reynold cautioned, a shrewd light glinting in his spectacles. "Simply clue in the Evans Family. Let her own bloodline probe her first. If she breaks, we reap the rewards. If she holds, we haven't dirtied our hands."
"A shrewd plan, as expected of you, my Lord," Caesar chuckled, the sound like dry leaves skittering over a grave.
....
In the grey, pre-dawn mist of the Eternal River Plains, ten shadows huddled within a concealment array. These were battle hardened Dark Magi from a coalition of minor organisations.
The air was thick with the scent of ozone and ill intent as they finalized their coordinates.
"The Astral Requiem?" whispered their leader, a man whose skin was etched with twitching, necrotic aura. "They claim an entrance to the greatest secret plane in history, yet we know nothing of their Master. Some say he is a Rank 3 legend; others say he is a fraud hiding behind ancient formations. Today, we peel back the skin and see what bleeds."
A Magus in silver-threaded robes stepped forward, his eyes locked on a jagged, ivory needle pulsing with a sickly white light. "The Void-Shuttle Needle is ready. It doesn't matter how many runes they've layered. Where this strikes, the void follows."
"The plan is set," a Magus with a scarred throat rasped, pointing to a spectral map. "We strike the North Market of the Astral Requiem base. It is their primary commercial hub. Hit hard, hit fast."
Their plan was a surgical strike, to shatter the North Market, slaughter the inhabitants, loot the market, probe the reinforcement speed, and vanish before the Rank 2 powerhouse could intervene.
....
The North Market was a hub of flickering lanterns and the low murmur of trade but that peace was incinerated in an instant.
A pillar of black fire erupted in the center of the square, vaporizing a dozen acolytes before they could scream. Six Dark Magi descended like locusts, unleashing a torrent of high-degree elemental spells that tore through stalls and stone.
A Guest Magus of the Requiem, an older man named Harlen, felt the tremors and surged from his quarters.
Seeing the carnage, he didn't hesitate. He slammed his fist against the Three-Winged Sigil on his chest.
Beep! Distress Signal Transmitted to Headquarters.
"Bastards!" Harlen roared, manifesting a shimmering dome of obsidian scales. The barrier held for a heartbeat, throwing the attackers back.
But then, the silver-robed rune expert stepped into the light. He thrust the ivory needle forward.
The sound was like silk tearing. A shuttle-shaped hole collapsed the space of the barrier. As the protection failed, Harlen screamed, his body bloating into the horrific, multi-limbed form of a Demogorgon.
He was a grotesque titan of meat and rage for exactly three seconds. Then, four simultaneous high-tier spells corrosive acid, shadow spears, and elemental fire converged on him. The explosion painted the market walls in Magus blood.
Two Bloodline Knights guarding the inner gate leaped from the ramparts roaring like enraged bulls, their swords wreathed in the crimson mist of their own boiling blood.
They were berserkers, killing two Dark Magi in a flurry of steel that defied human speed. They pushed back the remaining team with suicidal ferocity until a binding rune spell restrained their limbs
They fought until their limbs were shredded, finally succumbing when the peak rank 1 magus ripped their hearts out of their chest.
Emboldened, the Dark Magi rune expert turned his needle toward the inner sanctum. But Leylin's personal handiwork was a trap, not a shield. As the needle touched the inner array, the runes didn't break they inhaled.
The artifact vibrated, turned red, and detonated. The rune expert's head followed suit, his brains decorating the very barrier he tried to pierce.
"Enough!" a thunderous voice echoed.
Greem, Faisal, and Dexter emerged from a concealment array, leading eight Bloodline Knights from the Rebel Hearts.
Four of these knights were at the very end of their lifespans men with only months to live. Recognizing their final purpose, they activated their secret life-burning techniques.
Their skin turned a charred black as their vital essence became fuel. They struck with the force of falling stars, killing five more Magi in a single, devastating charge.
One Dark Magus was captured alive, pinned to the ground by Faisal's blade, while the last a powerful Peak Rank 1 Magus managed to flee into the mist.
However, even in his retreat, he inflicted critical, festering wounds on the four bloodline knights who had led the charge.