Midnight - Eastern Docks Warehouse
The eastern docks stank of rotting fish, salt water, and human desperation. Magnus crouched on a rooftop overlooking the target warehouse, his crimson eyes cutting through the darkness with predatory precision. Beside him, Brutus "The Breaker" Stone sat with surprising stillness for someone his size, the giant's dark eyes studying their objective with careful intelligence.
The warehouse was massive—three stories of weathered stone and timber, significantly larger than the Bartion facility. Unlike Verne's operation, this one didn't try to hide. Guards patrolled openly, at least a dozen visible from their vantage point, all wearing matching leather armor marked with an unfamiliar crest—a crimson ship on black background.
"Mercenary company," Magnus murmured, recognizing the professional bearing of the guards. "Not street thugs. These are trained soldiers."
"Da," Brutus rumbled in agreement, his deep voice barely above a whisper despite his size. "I recognize crest. Red Wake Mercenaries. They work for highest bidder, no questions asked. Reputation for being brutal but effective."
Magnus's shadow sense pushed outward, extending through the building like invisible tendrils. His divine shadow stirred, helping him perceive what normal senses couldn't reach. The sensation was still uncomfortable—like using a muscle he didn't fully understand—but he was getting better at controlling it.
"Ground floor... twenty guards, maybe twenty-five. They're positioned around cages—I count twelve prisoners, all children." His voice tightened with suppressed rage. "Second floor has fewer guards—maybe eight—but more prisoners. Fifteen, possibly more. Third floor..." He concentrated harder, his shadow sense climbing. "Command center. Four guards and two others—higher ranked based on their aura signatures."
"Total enemy?" Brutus asked.
"Thirty-five to forty combatants. Against two of us." Magnus pulled his shadow sense back, the effort making his temples throb. "And we need to keep the children safe during the fighting."
"Is bad odds," Brutus admitted. "But we have advantages, yes? You have shadow magic. I have..." He hefted his massive warhammer, the weapon's head covered in dents and old bloodstains. "Persuasive argument."
Despite the tension, Magnus almost smiled. Over the past weeks, he'd grown to appreciate Brutus's straightforward nature. The giant was far more intelligent than his appearance suggested, with a tactical mind hidden beneath his mountain of muscle.
"Marcus, status check," Magnus whispered into the communication spell linking all five teams.
The young mage's nervous voice crackled in his mind. "Communication spells active and stable. All five teams in position. Sera and I are ready at the northern facility. Finn and Rhea report ready at the western location. Captain Darius is in position at the guard post. Prince Ethan's team is—"
"Delayed," Ethan's cold voice cut in. "Minor complication. We'll be five minutes behind schedule. All other teams proceed as planned. Do not wait for us."
Magnus frowned. A "minor complication" in the noble quarter could mean anything from political interference to an ambush. But Ethan's tone brooked no argument.
"Understood, Your Highness," Magnus said. "All teams, final equipment check. We move in two minutes. Brutus and I will breach first to draw attention. Once you hear our assault begin, hit your targets simultaneously. Questions?"
Silence across the communication spell. Everyone knew their roles.
"Good hunting," Magnus said. "And remember—the children are the priority. Everything else is secondary."
He looked at Brutus, who had finished his own equipment check. The giant wore minimal armor—just a chest plate over his grey uniform—because his primary defense was his incredible physical resilience. His warhammer rested against his shoulder, and Magnus could feel the faint aura emanating from it. Not magical, but something else—pure accumulated violence, the weapon remembering every skull it had crushed, every bone it had shattered.
"You ready, little man?" Brutus asked, using his nickname for Magnus with genuine affection rather than mockery.
"Ready." Magnus drew his twin shadow sabers, feeling their familiar weight. The dark blades seemed to drink in the moonlight, shadows coiling around them like living things. "Remember the plan—I go in first, use shadows to create chaos and confusion. You follow thirty seconds later with maximum force. Shock and awe."
"I am very good at shock and awe," Brutus grinned, showing surprisingly white teeth. "Is my specialty."
Magnus's shadow aura began to manifest, darkness coiling around him like smoke. He felt the divine shadow stir within his dantian, that ancient power responding to his need. For a moment, his crimson eyes blazed brighter, and frost formed on the rooftop tiles beneath his feet.
"Brutus," Magnus said quietly. "If something goes wrong with my shadow power—if I lose control—"
"I hit you very hard with hammer," Brutus said matter-of-factly. "You wake up with headache, but you wake up. Is good plan, yes?"
Magnus looked at the giant, reading the absolute sincerity in his dark eyes. Brutus wasn't joking. He'd made a tactical assessment and determined that his hammer could knock Magnus unconscious without killing him if necessary.
"Yes," Magnus said, oddly reassured. "Is good plan."
"Then we go make bad men regret life choices," Brutus said, standing to his full imposing height. "For children. For justice. For making world little bit better, yes?"
"Yes," Magnus agreed. "For all of that."
He activated his Phantom Lotus Steps, shadows wrapping around him like a cloak. "Thirty seconds. Then you come through the front door like the wrath of an angry god."
"I can do this," Brutus said confidently. "I have practice being wrathful god."
Magnus dropped from the rooftop, shadows carrying him silently across the open ground. To the guards, he was just another shadow among many, completely invisible in the darkness.
He reached the warehouse wall and began climbing, his shadow-enhanced movements making the ascent effortless. The second-floor window was barred but not locked—arrogant security assuming the bars were enough.
Magnus's shadow aura flowed through the gaps between bars like liquid darkness. On the other side, he reformed, silent as death itself.
He was inside.
The second floor was a long corridor with cells lining both sides—proper prison cells with iron bars and heavy locks. Magnus's enhanced hearing picked up soft crying, frightened whispers, the sounds of traumatized children trying to find comfort in darkness.
Two guards stood at the far end of the corridor, talking in low voices, clearly bored with their duty. They had no idea death had entered their domain.
Magnus moved like a ghost, his Phantom Lotus Steps carrying him down the corridor without making a sound. The shadows clung to him, bending light around his form, making him nearly invisible even if someone looked directly at him.
He reached the first guard before the man even sensed danger.
Magnus's hand covered the guard's mouth as his saber found the kidney—quick, precise, lethal. The guard's eyes widened in shock and pain, then glazed as life fled. Magnus lowered the body silently.
The second guard finally noticed something wrong. He turned, mouth opening to shout an alarm—
Magnus's thrown saber pierced his throat. The blade struck with such force it pinned him to the wall. The guard gurgled once, blood bubbling from his mouth, then went still.
Two down.
Magnus retrieved his saber, wiping the blade clean on the dead guard's uniform. Then he approached the nearest cell.
Inside, three children huddled together two girls and a boy, ranging from maybe eight to twelve years old. They stared at Magnus with wide, terrified eyes, seeing his blood-covered form and the shadows writhing around him like living creatures.
"Don't be afraid," Magnus said softly, suppressing his shadow aura as much as possible. "I'm here to rescue you. I'm from the palace Prince Ethan sent us."
The oldest girl, maybe twelve, looked at him with eyes far too old for her age. "You're... the Red Shadow? From the stories?"
Magnus blinked, surprised. Apparently his reputation had spread further than he'd realized. "Yes. And I'm getting you out of here."
"There are others," the girl said urgently, pointing to the other cells. "Fifteen of us on this floor. And more downstairs. You have to save them all."
"I will," Magnus promised. "I swear to you, I will."
He examined the cell lock a heavy iron mechanism, probably requiring a key. He could pick it given time, but time was a luxury he didn't have.
"Stand back," Magnus commanded. The children scrambled to the far corner of the cell.
Magnus focused his shadow aura into his hand, concentrating the energy into a single point. Then he struck the lock with enhanced force.
CRACK.
The lock shattered, pieces of iron clattering to the floor. The cell door swung open.
"Stay here for now," Magnus instructed. "I need to clear the guards first, then I'll come back for all of you. Don't leave this cell until I say so. Understand?"
The children nodded, the oldest girl looking at him with desperate hope. "Please hurry. They... they take some of us away sometimes. They don't come back."
Magnus's shadow aura flared with barely contained rage. "No one else is getting taken. That's a promise."
He moved to the next cell, repeating the process breaking locks, reassuring terrified children, promising rescue. By the time he'd opened the fifth cell, alarms began ringing downstairs.
Someone had found the bodies.
"All teams, this is Magnus," he said into the communication spell. "I've been compromised. Beginning assault phase now. Brutus, you're up."
"Da! Is my time to shine!" Brutus's cheerful voice came back.
Magnus heard it before he saw it—a sound like thunder, like a battering ram hitting a fortress gate, like the world itself cracking.
BOOM.
The entire warehouse shook. Dust fell from the ceiling. Somewhere downstairs, men started screaming.
Brutus had arrived.
Magnus moved to the stairwell, looking down to the ground floor. What he saw was pure, beautiful chaos.
The front entrance—a massive reinforced door that should have required multiple men to breach—was simply gone. Blown inward in a shower of splinters and twisted metal. And standing in the opening, wreathed in dust and moonlight, was Brutus.
The giant had activated his Earth Breaker Aura. Brown energy pulsed around him like visible gravity, making the very air seem heavier. His warhammer glowed with the same energy, and where it had struck the door, the stone threshold had cracked into a spiderweb pattern.
"GOOD EVENING!" Brutus bellowed, his voice shaking the walls. "I AM BRUTUS THE BREAKER! I HAVE COME FOR THE CHILDREN! WHO WANTS TO NEGOTIATE SURRENDER?"
Twenty-five Red Wake mercenaries stared at him in shocked silence.
Then their captain, a scarred veteran with cold eyes, drew his sword. "Kill him! All units, converge on—"
Brutus charged.
For a man his size, he moved with shocking speed. His warhammer swung in a devastating arc, and the first mercenary who tried to block caught the full force. The man's sword shattered like glass, and the hammer continued through his guard, catching him in the chest.
The mercenary flew backward twenty feet, crashing through a stack of crates. He didn't get up.
"NEXT VOLUNTEER?" Brutus roared.
Six mercenaries attacked simultaneously, coordinated professional assault. Swords flashed from multiple angles, trying to find gaps in his minimal armor.
Brutus's Earth Breaker Aura pulsed, and the ground beneath them cracked. The mercenaries stumbled, their footing compromised. In that moment of distraction, Brutus's hammer swept horizontally.
Three men went down, bones shattered, armor crumpled. The other three managed to dodge, but barely.
"YOU FIGHT WELL!" Brutus complimented them cheerfully, even as he crushed another mercenary's skull with a overhead strike. "IS GOOD! I RESPECT SKILL! BUT IS NOT ENOUGH!"
From his position on the second floor, Magnus watched in awe. Brutus was a force of nature, an avalanche given human form. Every swing of his hammer created destruction, every step cracked the floor, and his Earth Breaker Aura made fighting near him like moving through water.
But the mercenaries were adapting. They'd realized frontal assault was suicide. Now they were falling back, using crossbows and thrown weapons, trying to bring down the giant from range.
Time to even the odds.
"Shadowmire Binding!" Magnus called out, his shadow aura erupting.
Dark tendrils exploded from the ground floor shadows, wrapping around eight mercenaries simultaneously. They screamed as the shadows constricted, crushing ribs, breaking bones, cutting off air.
The mercenaries' attention split half still trying to handle Brutus, half now desperately fighting against the shadows.
Magnus dropped from the second floor, his Phantom Lotus Steps making the fall completely silent. He landed in the middle of the confused mercenaries like a nightmare made flesh.
His sabers sang.
Blood sprayed as he cut through the distracted guards. Each strike was precise, lethal, economical. No wasted movement, no hesitation, just pure killing efficiency honed over lifetimes.
A mercenary lunged at him with a spear. Magnus sidestepped, his saber severing the spear shaft, his second blade opening the man's throat.
Another tried to flank him. Magnus's shadow aura lashed out, dark tendrils wrapping around the mercenary's legs. The man fell, and Magnus's boot crushed his windpipe.
"TAG TEAM!" Brutus laughed, his hammer pulverizing another mercenary. "WE MAKE GOOD TEAM, LITTLE MAN!"
"FOCUS!" Magnus shouted back, deflecting a crossbow bolt with his saber. "THERE'S STILL"
The third floor door burst open, and four heavily armored guards emerged, led by a woman in officer's rank insignia. She was tall, battle-scarred, and her aura radiated competence and danger.
"Fall back to the cages!" she commanded her remaining troops. "Use the prisoners as shields!"
"NO!" Magnus's voice cracked like a whip.
But five mercenaries had already broken through, racing toward the caged children on the ground floor. If they reached them, if they got knives to throats, the whole rescue would become a hostage situation.
Magnus made a split-second decision.
His divine shadow erupted.
It wasn't controlled. It wasn't planned. It was pure instinct, pure rage, pure need to protect the innocent.
Darkness exploded from Magnus like a shockwave. The temperature plummeted, frost forming on every surface. The torches flickering throughout the warehouse all died simultaneously, plunging everything into absolute darkness.
But Magnus could see. His crimson eyes blazed with supernatural light, and the divine shadow showed him everything every beating heart, every terrified child, every mercenary frozen in shock.
"Abyssal Rend," Magnus whispered.
His crossed sabers tore reality itself. A rift opened not a physical tear, but something deeper. A hole into absolute darkness, into the void between spaces, into the domain of the divine shadow.
The five mercenaries racing toward the cages were caught in the rift's pull. They screamed as shadow tendrils wrapped around them, dragging them toward the void. Their screams cut off abruptly as they were pulled through the tear in space and simply ceased to exist.
The rift closed, leaving only silence.
Magnus stood wreathed in shadows that moved with disturbing independence, his crimson eyes blazing with power he didn't fully understand. Frost covered his sabers, his breath misted in the suddenly frozen air, and something ancient looked out through his gaze.
The remaining mercenaries stared at him in absolute terror. Even their officer, the battle-hardened veteran, had gone pale.
"Demon," one mercenary whispered.
"Worse," another said. "Shadow heir. The old legends..."
"SURRENDER!" Magnus's voice carried harmonics that shouldn't come from a human throat. "Lay down your weapons! Your choice is simple live to see trial, or die in darkness!"
Twenty mercenaries dropped their weapons immediately. The officer hesitated, pride warring with survival instinct.
Then Brutus stepped up beside Magnus, his warhammer resting on his shoulder, his massive frame blocking any escape route.
"Lady makes good choice now, yes?" Brutus said calmly. "Or lady becomes example of why not to threaten children."
The officer's sword clattered to the ground.
"Smart," Magnus said, his voice still carrying those unsettling harmonics. He forced the divine shadow down, pushed it back into the depths of his dantian. The darkness receded, the temperature rose, and his eyes returned to their normal crimson glow.
He was shaking slightly from the exertion, the divine shadow having consumed a massive amount of his qi. But he couldn't show weakness. Not yet.
"Brutus, secure the prisoners the mercenaries, I mean," Magnus commanded. "I'll start getting the children out."
"Da." Brutus began efficiently binding the surrendered mercenaries with rope from his pack, his massive strength making the task trivial.
Magnus moved to the ground floor cages, his hands trembling slightly as he broke the locks. Twelve children on this floor, all staring at him with a mixture of fear and hope.
"It's over," Magnus told them gently, his voice back to normal despite his exhaustion. "You're safe now. We're taking you home."
"All teams, this is Magnus," he said into the communication spell. "Eastern docks secure. Thirty-five enemy combatants neutralized twenty captured alive, fifteen killed in action. Twenty-seven children rescued twelve ground floor, fifteen second floor. No friendly casualties. How are other teams?"
"Northern facility secure!" Sera's voice came back, slightly breathless. "Twenty-two children rescued. Eight enemy killed, seven captured. Marcus is exhausted but unharmed."
"Western industrial nightmare," Finn's voice was tight with anger. "Underground cells with... with experimental areas. We found evidence of dark magic rituals. Fourteen children rescued, but three were... Rhea's checking if they can be saved. All enemies dead. No survivors. We made sure of that."
Magnus's jaw clenched. Dark magic experiments on children. The Velvet Merchant would pay for that.
"Darius?" Magnus called out.
Silence.
"Captain Darius, report!" Magnus's voice sharpened with concern.
More silence, then finally: "Western guard post... partially secure. Heavy resistance. Thirty-plus hostiles, well-trained and armed. I've neutralized eighteen, but they've barricaded themselves in the lower level with the prisoners. Current standoff situation. Palace guards are en route but fifteen minutes out. I can't breach without risking the children."
"Hold position," Magnus said immediately. "Brutus and I can be there in ten minutes—"
"Negative," Darius's voice was firm despite the sounds of combat in the background. "You secure your location and prisoners first. I'm contained, not in immediate danger. I can wait for palace guard backup."
"Captain—"
"That's an order, Magnus. Besides, I'm more worried about Prince Ethan's team. They've been radio silent for ten minutes."
Magnus's blood ran cold. "Marcus, can you reach Prince Ethan's communication spell?"
"I'm trying," Marcus's nervous voice came back. "But there's interference. Magical interference. Something's blocking the spell... or..." His voice dropped to a frightened whisper. "Or there's no one left alive to respond."
"That's not possible," Sera said firmly. "Prince Ethan wouldn't go down easily.He is stronger than us
"All teams, listen," Magnus cut through the building panic. "Secure your locations, get the children to safety, then we converge on the noble quarter. Something's gone wrong. We're not leaving anyone behind."
"Agreed," Darius said. "But Magnus be smart about this. If it's a trap, walking into it with all of us could be exactly what the Velvet Merchant wants."
"Then he'll get what he wants," Magnus said coldly, his shadow aura beginning to pulse again despite his exhaustion. "And he'll regret it."
He looked at Brutus, who had finished securing all the captured mercenaries. The giant met his gaze with steady determination.
"Children go to safe place first," Brutus said firmly. "Then we go save friends. Is proper order of things, yes?"
"Yes," Magnus agreed, though every instinct screamed at him to rush to Rhea's aid immediately. But Brutus was right—the children's safety came first. That was the mission. That was the priority.
He just hoped Rhea could hold on long enough for them to arrive.
The female mercenary officer, bound and sitting against a wall, laughed bitterly. "You're walking into a trap, you know. The noble quarter location? That's the Velvet Merchant's killing ground. He sets it up specifically to lure in would-be heroes. You go there, you die."
Magnus crouched in front of her, his crimson eyes boring into hers. "How many 'heroes' has he killed?"
"Twelve over the past three years," she admitted. "Investigators, vigilantes, concerned nobles who got too close to the truth. They all went to that location thinking they'd rescue prisoners and expose corruption. None of them came back."
"Then we'll be the first," Magnus said coldly. "Tell me what's waiting there?"
The officer hesitated, then seemed to decide cooperation might earn her leniency. "I don't know specifics. The noble quarter team is separate, elite. But I know they have a combat mage a real one, not an apprentice. And I know the building has multiple levels below ground that aren't on any official plans. And I know..." She met his gaze. "I know the Velvet Merchant himself sometimes visits that location. If he's there tonight, with his personal guards and the mage... your Prince is already dead."
Magnus stood, his jaw tight. "We'll see about that."
Thirty minutes later, after ensuring all twenty-seven rescued children were secured in palace guard custody and being transported to the medical wing, Magnus and Brutus stood on a rooftop overlooking the noble quarter.
Somewhere in the exclusive district of mansions and wealth, Rhea and Prince Ethan were fighting for their lives.
And Magnus was coming for them.
The divine shadow stirred in his dantian, eager, hungry, ready for violence.
"Hold on, Prince i am coming saving your ass," Magnus whispered into the night. "I'm coming."
The shadows around him deepened, responding to his words.
And in the darkness, something ancient and terrible smiled.
To Be Continued in Chapter 34...