Chapter 39
The portal twisted open like a spiraling mirror, drawing in wind and light until the world beyond it shimmered like broken glass. Kaela gripped her spear tightly, Lunaria adjusted the small satchel of enchanted scrolls on her hip, and Astern stepped forward first.
They emerged into smoke.
The outpost near Ghorran's Edge was nothing like Sanctum Astrae. There were no elegant towers, no serene training halls—only jagged stone battlements, reinforced tents, and the stench of sulfur carried on a hot, dry wind.
The sky was red.
Always.
A veteran angel in blackened armor greeted them. His left wing was made of layered crystal rather than feathers.
"You the rookies from the academy?"
Astern nodded.
"Name's Commander Hyrros. Don't expect a warm welcome. This isn't a simulation."
He turned and walked without waiting. They followed.
Along the edges of the encampment were crater marks scorched deep into the ground—remnants of past raids. Demonic energy still clung to some of them, making the air tremble with residue.
"You'll be working recon," Hyrros said. "There's been a rise in under-creeps—demons that tunnel under the old ruins. We don't know what they're looking for. But they're getting bolder."
He stopped before a map carved into a massive slate wall.
"You'll report to Sector Nine. You'll be paired with another squad."
As he said it, three more cadets approached—older students. Their uniforms bore golden trim, and one had a sword strapped to his back that shimmered unnaturally.
"Team Ferros," one said, grinning. "Looks like we're babysitting."
Lunaria said nothing.
Kaela snorted. "Babysit us, and you'll miss the actual fight."
Astern simply looked at the map. "Where are the tunnels forming?"
Hyrros glanced at him. "That's your job to find out."
---
Sector Nine was a grave of broken statues.
Once, it had been a temple to one of the lesser angelic lords. Now, only shattered wings and melted altars remained.
The two teams fanned out. Astern led the forward sweep, his senses tuned beyond what he revealed. The blade inside him pulsed faintly—responding to something beneath the ground.
"There," he said suddenly, stopping.
A circle of stones had shifted. Not by nature, but by claw.
Kaela tapped it with the butt of her spear. "This ground's hollow."
Before anyone could move, it exploded upward.
A creature of stone and flesh erupted—a tunnel beast with a skull-mask head and claws that shimmered with embedded bone. The world tilted into motion.
The fight began.
Team Ferros sprang into action, forming a triangle of coverage. Kaela launched herself forward with a spiraling sweep of her weapon, while Lunaria summoned frost fields to slow the demon's momentum.
Astern didn't move immediately.
He waited.
Then, when the beast reared back to strike, he moved like lightning.
A strike from the palm—precise.
The creature's arm froze, cracked, and shattered in a spiral of black-and-silver energy.
Team Ferros stared.
Astern stepped back, eyes scanning the ground.
"It wasn't alone."
The earth rumbled again.
Four more breaches opened.
---
The battle raged.
Astern moved as if born in combat. His strikes were measured, almost surgical, channeling the blade's presence without unleashing its full form. Kaela fought like a tempest, and Lunaria kept their perimeters controlled.
By the time the last demon fell, the sun had dimmed.
And yet, in the crater where the final one had died, a fragment remained.
A crystal shard.
It pulsed faintly.
When Astern touched it, his vision went white.
A memory—not his own.
A hand. A throne of ash. And the words:
"Find the Vault of Sorrow."
---
He gasped as the vision faded.
Kaela caught him. "What did you see?"
He held the shard tightly.
"Something deeper than demons," he said. "And far more ancient."