Forty Minutes Earlier - Northern Grain Facility
Lieutenant Sera Ashford moved through the darkness like water flowing over stone—silent, inevitable, deadly. Her twin short swords were already drawn, the blades catching faint starlight as she and Marcus Reed approached the northern grain facility from the treeline.
The building loomed against the night sky, a massive structure that pretended to be a simple agricultural warehouse. Three stories of weathered wood and stone, with tall grain silos rising like sentinels on either side. But Sera's experienced eyes caught the details that betrayed its true purpose—too many guards for a grain storage, bars on windows that should have been open for ventilation, and the unmistakable aura of human misery that hung over the place like a shroud.
"Twenty-two children," Marcus whispered beside her, his staff glowing faintly as he maintained the communication spell linking all five teams. "That's what the intelligence said. Twenty-two innocent lives depending on us not screwing this up."
His voice trembled slightly. Despite weeks of training, despite proving himself in the Bartion raid, Marcus was still nervous before combat. Sera found it oddly endearing—a reminder that not all warriors were dead inside, that some still felt appropriate fear before violence.
"We won't screw it up," Sera said with quiet confidence, her blue eyes scanning the perimeter with professional precision. "I count six guards outside. Two at the main entrance, one on each side, two patrolling. Standard rotation, professional setup but not elite level. Inside will be more challenging."
"How many more?" Marcus asked, his grey-blue eyes wide with anxiety.
"Based on facility size and prisoner count? Fifteen to twenty guards minimum. Possibly more if they're expecting trouble." Sera's tactical mind was already formulating assault plans, backup strategies, contingencies for when things inevitably went wrong. "Which means we need to be smart. This isn't like training where we can afford mistakes."
Marcus swallowed hard, his knuckles white on his staff. "Right. Smart. I can do smart." He paused. "What's the smart plan?"
Sera studied the building for another moment, then pointed to the eastern side. "See that loading dock? The doors are reinforced, but the walls around them are old wood. You hit them with a controlled fireball—enough to breach but not enough to set the whole building ablaze with children inside. I go through first, neutralize immediate threats while you provide magical support from range."
"Controlled fireball," Marcus repeated, his voice steadying as he focused on the technical challenge. "Temperature regulation, compression ratio, directional focus... I can do that. Probably. Maybe. Definitely maybe."
"Marcus." Sera's voice was firm but not unkind. "Look at me."
The young mage turned to face her, and she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You're one of the most talented combat mages I've ever seen," Sera said, and she meant it. "Your spell control is exceptional, your theoretical knowledge is extensive, and you've got good combat instincts when you trust yourself. The only thing holding you back is doubt. So stop doubting. I need you focused, confident, and ready to burn anyone who threatens those children. Can you do that?"
Marcus took a deep breath, then another. Some of the fear left his eyes, replaced by determination. "Yes. Yes, I can do that."
"Good." Sera released his shoulder and drew her swords fully. "All teams, this is Sera. Marcus and I are in position at the northern facility. Beginning approach in sixty seconds."
Magnus's voice came back through the communication spell. "Copy. All teams proceed as planned. Remember—children are priority one. Everything else is secondary."
"Understood," Sera confirmed. She looked at Marcus. "Ready?"
"Ready," Marcus said, and this time his voice didn't waver.
They moved.
Sera led the way, her movements fluid and silent despite the uneven ground. Years of military training had taught her how to approach a target without being detected—stay low, use available cover, move during guard patrol gaps, never rush.
Marcus followed her lead, remarkably quiet for someone carrying a six-foot staff. He'd learned quickly during their training sessions, absorbing her lessons on stealth and tactical movement with the same fierce intelligence he applied to spell theory.
They reached the eastern wall without being detected. Sera pressed herself against the weathered wood, listening. Inside, she could hear voices—guards talking, laughing, completely unaware that death was about to visit them.
"On my mark," Sera whispered. "Three... two... one... mark."
"Ignis Compressa!" Marcus's staff blazed with orange light.
A sphere of compressed fire exploded from the tip, striking the wooden wall with devastating precision. The wall didn't explode—that would have been uncontrolled, dangerous. Instead, it simply disintegrated, wood vaporizing under intense heat, creating a perfect breach point large enough for them to enter.
Sera was through before the smoke cleared.
The loading dock opened into a storage area filled with grain sacks—legitimate cover for the facility's true purpose. Three guards stood in shocked surprise, hands reaching for weapons but far too slow.
Sera's swords sang.
The first guard went down with both blades through his chest, crossed in an X-pattern that pierced heart and both lungs simultaneously. He was dead before his brain registered pain.
The second guard managed to draw his sword. Sera's left blade deflected his clumsy strike while her right opened his throat in a textbook counter. Blood sprayed, and he collapsed gurgling.
The third guard was smarter. He didn't try to fight—he turned to run, to raise an alarm.
"Vincula Luminis!" Marcus's voice rang out.
Golden chains of magical energy erupted from the floor, wrapping around the guard's legs. The man crashed face-first into a grain sack, stunned.
Sera was on him in an instant, her blade finding the gap between his helmet and armor. Quick, professional, lethal.
Three down. Silent kills, no alarm raised.
"Well done," Sera said, meaning it. Marcus's binding spell had been perfectly timed, perfectly executed. "Clear this level, then move up."
They advanced through the ground floor systematically, clearing room by room. Sera led each entry, her swords finding throats and hearts with surgical precision. Marcus followed, his spells covering angles she couldn't reach, binding enemies who tried to flee, shielding them when crossbow bolts flew from unexpected directions.
They worked in synchronized silence, a deadly dance perfected through weeks of intensive training. Sera would engage close combat, drawing attention and overwhelming guards with her superior swordsmanship. Marcus would control the battlefield from range, using binding spells to immobilize threats, barrier spells to protect Sera from ranged attacks, and the occasional precisely-placed fireball to eliminate clustered enemies.
By the time they reached the stairs to the second floor, eight guards lay dead, and they still hadn't triggered any alarms.
"Too easy," Sera muttered, her tactical instincts screaming warnings. "This is too easy. Where's the main security?"
"Maybe they're upstairs with the prisoners?" Marcus suggested, though his nervous tone suggested he didn't believe it either.
Sera pressed her ear against the stairwell door, listening intently. She heard voices—many voices, angry and alert.
"—don't care what you heard, keep position! If someone breached the ground floor, we lock down this level and use the children as leverage!"
Her blood ran cold. They knew. Somehow, they knew intruders were here.
"Marcus, they're expecting us. The second floor is going to be fortified, probably using the prisoners as human shields." Sera's mind raced through options. "We need a different approach. Can you create a smokescreen? Something to blind them without harming the children?"
Marcus nodded, his fingers already tracing spell patterns. "Obscurum Nebula. It's a darkness spell—creates a cloud of magical shadow that blocks normal vision and even some enhanced senses. Won't harm the prisoners, but guards will be effectively blind."
"Perfect. On my signal, you fill that second floor with darkness. I go in fast, eliminate threats before they can hurt anyone. You maintain the spell and watch for anyone trying to escape downstairs."
"That's... that's incredibly dangerous for you," Marcus objected. "Fighting in complete darkness against multiple opponents—"
"I've done it before," Sera said simply. "Military combat training includes sensory deprivation scenarios. I can fight blind if I have to. Can you maintain the spell for two minutes?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then we do this." Sera positioned herself at the door, swords ready. "Cast it the moment I breach."
She kicked the door open and charged through.
The second floor was a long corridor with doors on both sides—cells, just like the Bartion warehouse. Twenty guards in formation, weapons drawn, faces hard with professional determination. And behind them, visible through cell bars, the terrified faces of children.
"Now!" Sera shouted.
"Obscurum Nebula!" Marcus's staff blazed with black light.
Darkness exploded through the corridor like ink spilled in water. Within seconds, the entire second floor was plunged into absolute blackness—not natural darkness but magical shadow that swallowed light itself.
The guards panicked immediately.
"I can't see!"
"What is this?!"
"Formation! Hold formation!"
But formations meant nothing in absolute darkness. They were blind, disoriented, helpless.
Sera closed her eyes. Sight was useless now. Instead, she focused on her other senses—sound, air displacement, the subtle vibrations of footsteps on wooden floors.
She moved.
Her swords found flesh by sound alone. A guard's breathing gave away his position—her blade opened his throat. Another shifted his weight nervously—she struck where the sound originated, felt resistance as steel met armor, adjusted angle, found the gap, pushed through.
The darkness was her ally now. The guards slashed wildly at shadows, hitting each other more often than not. Their panicked shouts gave away positions, their heavy breathing marked them for death.
Sera moved through them like a ghost, her blades finding targets with almost supernatural precision. Every sound was a road map, every movement a target, every panicked breath a death sentence.
"She's here! I felt—" The voice cut off with a gurgle as Sera's sword found his windpipe.
"Fall back! Fall back to—" Another death rattle as her second blade pierced his heart from behind.
The children in the cells were screaming now, terrified by the sounds of combat they couldn't see. Sera wanted to reassure them, but she couldn't break her focus. Speaking would give away her position, would make her vulnerable.
So she continued her deadly work in silence.
One minute passed. Half the guards were down.
"Use the prisoners!" someone shouted—a commander, trying to salvage the situation. "Get to the cells! Grab hostages!"
Several guards broke formation, stumbling blindly toward where they remembered the cells being.
"Marcus!" Sera shouted. "Barriers on the cells! Now!"
"Scutum Arcanum!" Marcus's voice echoed from the stairwell.
Golden barriers shimmered into existence in front of each cell, invisible in the darkness but tangible—magical shields that would block anyone from reaching the children.
The guards crashed into the barriers, confusion turning to panic as they realized they couldn't reach their hostages.
"What is this?! What kind of magic—"
Sera's swords ended his question permanently.
Two minutes. The darkness began to fade as Marcus's spell reached its limit.
Light returned gradually, revealing carnage. Nineteen guards lay dead or dying on the blood-soaked floor. One remained standing—the commander, a grizzled veteran with cold eyes and a sword still raised despite the hopelessness of his situation.
He looked at Sera, at her blood-covered swords and utterly calm expression, and slowly lowered his weapon.
"I surrender," he said quietly.
"Smart," Sera replied, her voice empty of emotion. "On your knees. Hands behind your head."
The commander complied, and Marcus emerged from the stairwell, his face pale from magical exhaustion but his staff still raised and ready.
"Secure him," Sera commanded. "I'll start freeing the children."
She moved to the first cell, breaking the lock with a precise strike. Inside, four children huddled together, their faces streaked with tears and terror.
"It's over," Sera said, her voice gentling despite her blood-soaked appearance. "We're from the palace. Prince Ethan sent us to rescue you. You're safe now."
The oldest child, a boy maybe ten years old, looked at her with hollow eyes that had seen too much. "Are you... are you an angel?"
Sera's throat tightened. She knelt down to his level, ignoring the blood dripping from her swords. "No, child. I'm just a soldier. But I promise you—the people who hurt you will never hurt anyone again."
She moved through the cells systematically, breaking locks, speaking softly to traumatized children, checking for injuries. Twenty-two children total, just as intelligence had indicated. Most were physically unharmed aside from malnourishment and minor bruises. But their eyes—their eyes carried wounds that would never fully heal.
"Marcus, report to command," Sera said as she worked. "Northern facility secure. Twenty guards eliminated, one captured for interrogation. Twenty-two children rescued. No friendly casualties."
"Reporting now," Marcus said, his voice still shaky from spell exhaustion. Then, more quietly, "Sera... that was incredible. The way you fought in complete darkness... I've never seen anything like it."
"It's just training," Sera said dismissively, though a small part of her appreciated the recognition. "You did well too. That barrier spell saved lives. The timing was perfect."
Marcus's face flushed with pride. "Really? I thought maybe I cast it too slow, or the positioning wasn't optimal—"
"It was perfect," Sera interrupted firmly. "You kept those children safe, and that's what mattered. Be proud of that."
While Marcus reported to the other teams through the communication spell, Sera finished checking the children. Most could walk, though some were weak from hunger. She'd need to organize transport quickly.
The captured commander watched her work with calculating eyes. Finally, he spoke.
"You move like Royal Guard," he observed. "Elite training, years of combat experience. What's someone like you doing working for Prince Ethan? He's just a second son, no real power."
Sera finished bandaging a child's arm before responding. "I work for him because he's trying to clean up this kingdom's filth. And because someone needs to protect people who can't protect themselves."
"Noble sentiment," the commander said with a bitter smile. "But you know this doesn't end here, right? We're just one facility. The Velvet Merchant's network spans three kingdoms. You rescue these twenty-two, but hundreds more are already captured or will be tomorrow. This is a war you can't win."
"Then we'll lose it one rescued child at a time," Sera said coldly. "And you're going to help us. You're going to tell us everything you know about the network—locations, contacts, operations, everything."
The commander laughed. "Why would I do that? You'll execute me either way."
"True," Sera admitted. "But execution is quick. What Prince Ethan's interrogators will do if you don't cooperate voluntarily is... less quick. And far less pleasant. Your choice."
The commander's smile faded. He studied Sera's face, reading the absolute truth in her eyes, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Ask your questions," he said quietly.
Sera was about to begin interrogation when Marcus's voice cut through the communication spell, sharp with panic.
"Sera! Prince Ethan's team is in trouble! Magnus says they've gone dark, no communication, possible ambush in the noble quarter!"
Sera's blood ran cold. "We need to go help them."
"But the children—" Marcus started.
"Palace guards are five minutes out," Sera said, making the tactical decision instantly. "We secure the prisoners here, then we move to support Magnus. Get ready to cast long-range support spells. If it's an ambush, they'll need everything we can throw at it."
She looked at the twenty-two rescued children, her jaw tightening. They were safe now, but how many more were in danger at the noble quarter? How many would die if Prince Ethan's team was overwhelmed?
"Marcus, how much magical energy do you have left?"
The young mage checked himself, his face pale. "Maybe thirty percent. The Obscurum Nebula and barrier spells drained me more than I expected."
"Will thirty percent be enough to make a difference if we join the noble quarter fight?"
Marcus's expression hardened with determination. "It'll have to be."
Sera allowed herself a small smile. The nervous apprentice was growing into a real combat mage right before her eyes.
after marcus destroy other guards with magic the mission was success
''Good marcus'' Magnus rubbing his nose in proud
Then sera moved through the cells systematically, breaking locks, speaking softly to traumatized children, checking for injuries. Twenty-two children total, just as intelligence had indicated. Most were physically unharmed aside from malnourishment and minor bruises.
"Marcus, report to command," Sera said as she worked. "Northern facility secure. Twenty guards eliminated, one captured for interrogation. Twenty-two children rescued. No friendly casualties."
"Reporting now," Marcus said, his voice still shaky from spell exhaustion.
Sera was bandaging a child's arm when Finn's broken voice came through the communication spell.
"Western industrial..." The usual cocky confidence was completely gone, replaced by something hollow and devastated. "We... we have complications."
Sera's hands stilled on the bandage. She'd served with Finn long enough to know that tone. That was the voice of someone who'd just watched people die.
"Define complications," Magnus's voice came back, carefully controlled.
The pause stretched too long. Sera found herself holding her breath.
Finn in low voice says "Western industrial is compromised. Building collapse. We recovered fourteen children total. Eleven are alive and being transported to palace guards." Another pause, and Sera could hear Finn struggling to continue. "And the other three... three children dead. Thomas Reed, age nine. Emma Blackwood, age seven. Sarah Chen, age eleven."
Sera felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. Her professional mask cracked, blue eyes widening with shock and grief.
Beside her, Marcus made a choked sound. "No. No, that's... that's not..."
"They were subjected to dark magic rituals," Finn continued, his voice mechanical now, like he was reading from a report to distance himself from the horror. "Runic corruption. When we killed the mage running the operation, the magic destabilized. The building collapsed. We couldn't... we couldn't save them."
Marcus dropped to his knees, his staff clattering to the floor. "I should have been there," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I could have stabilized the magic. I could have prevented the collapse. If I'd been there instead of here—"
"No," Sera said sharply, gripping his shoulder. "You were where you were assigned. You saved twenty-two children here. You don't get to second-guess command decisions."
"But three children—" Marcus's voice cracked.
"Are dead?," Sera finished, her voice hard. "And that's a tragedy. And we'll grieve for them. But you saved twenty-two, Marcus. Twenty-two families get their children back because of your magic, your barriers, your communication spells holding all the teams together. Don't diminish that."
Through the communication spell, they could hear Magnus trying to talk Finn down, could hear Brutus crying, could hear the weight of failure crushing everyone.
Sera had been a soldier long enough to know that casualties happened. That sometimes you made the right decisions and people still died. That war—and this was war, make no mistake—always extracted a price.
But children. Three children.
She thought about the twenty-two rescued kids around her, traumatized but alive. Thought about how easily this could have gone the other way. How easily all twenty-two could have been the casualties instead.
"Lieutenant Ashford?" One of the rescued children—the oldest girl who'd spoken earlier—approached nervously. "Is... is something wrong? You look..."
Sera forced her expression to soften. "Another team ran into complications. Some children... didn't make it."
The girl's face went pale. "How many?"
"Three."
"Do you know their names?"
Sera blinked, surprised by the question. "Thomas Reed. Emma Blackwood. Sarah Chen. Why?"
The girl started crying. "Emma... Emma Blackwood was here. She was here for weeks. They took her away three days ago. Said she was going somewhere for 'special processing.' We thought..." She sobbed. "We thought maybe she was being released. That maybe her family paid a ransom. But she was..."
"She was being sent to a dark magic laboratory," Sera said quietly. "And tonight, she almost made it home. She got so close."
The girl collapsed, and Sera caught her, holding the crying teenager while her own eyes burned with suppressed tears.
Marcus stood on shaking legs, his face pale and tear-streaked. "Sera, I need to... the other team said magical instability. If there are similar issues here, if any of these children were exposed to dark magic..."
"Check them," Sera ordered. "All of them. I'm not losing anyone else tonight."
Marcus began examining each child with his magical senses, looking for traces of dark magic corruption or ritual scarring. Sera watched him work, saw the determination in his young face, the desperate need to make sure no more children died from magical complications.
"Clear," Marcus said after checking the first child. "No magical contamination."
He moved to the second. "Clear."
Third. "Clear."
Fourth. "Wait." Marcus's face went pale. "This one... there's trace runic scarring. Faded, but present. She was exposed to ritual magic at some point."
Sera moved to the child immediately—a small girl, maybe seven. "Can you remove it?"
"I... I think so. The scarring is superficial, not deep corruption like the western industrial children must have had. But it'll take time and concentration." Marcus looked at Sera with frightened eyes. "What if I mess up? What if I make it worse like Finn did?"
"You won't," Sera said firmly. "Because you're going to take your time, do it right, and ask for help if you need it. Finn made a mistake because he acted without understanding the consequences. You won't make that mistake because you're aware of the danger."
Marcus nodded, swallowing hard. He placed his hands on the girl's head and began chanting, his staff glowing with golden light.
The runic scarring—faint lines that glowed with residual dark magic—began to fade under Marcus's purification spell. Slowly, carefully, with agonizing precision, he removed every trace of corruption.
Fifteen minutes later, he stepped back, exhausted and drenched in sweat. "Done. She's clean."
"Any others?" Sera asked.
Marcus checked the remaining children. "Two more with trace scarring. Not as bad as the first. I can handle them."
While Marcus worked, Sera listened to the communication spell updates from other teams. Darius was in a standoff. Magnus and Brutus had secured their location. Prince Ethan's team was still silent.
And Finn... Finn had stopped responding entirely. Rhea's voice came through occasionally with status updates, but Finn himself had gone dark.
Sera understood. She'd seen soldiers break before, watched good warriors crumble under the weight of civilian casualties. Some recovered. Some didn't.
"Sera," Marcus said quietly, finishing with the last child. "All clear. Every child here is free of magical contamination. No one else dies tonight."
"Good," Sera said. "Then let's go save whoever's in trouble at the noble quarter."
"But we don't know what we're walking into," Marcus objected. "We don't know why Prince Ethan's team went dark. It could be a trap—"
"It probably is a trap," Sera agreed. "But we're going anyway. Because that's what teammates do. We don't leave people behind just because it's dangerous."
Marcus straightened, his exhaustion overridden by determination. "Then let's go bring them home."
To Be Continued In Chapter 35....