As Elias and the team entered the gates of the Arcane City, a familiar sense of awe still washed over them—no matter how many times they had walked these streets, the beauty of the city never failed to impress.
Towering crystal towers gleamed in the morning sun, their surfaces etched with ancient magical runes that shimmered faintly with arcane light. The cobblestone roads were laced with silver lines, pulsing gently with the city's ambient mana flow. Floating lanterns drifted through the air, carrying soft, magical melodies that added to the city's serene atmosphere. Enchanted gardens bloomed in terraces, and the scent of flora infused with elemental essence danced in the wind.
Alice and Dante walked side by side, their conversation light, filled with laughter and the occasional playful nudge. Dante couldn't help but sneak quick glances at her, and Alice seemed to enjoy catching him in the act, her smirk always a beat ahead.
A few steps ahead, Elias and Faith walked close together, speaking in softer tones. There was something unspoken in their presence—comfort, ease, and something else lingering just below the surface.
Meanwhile, Logan and Vance trailed slightly behind them, already bickering.
"I'm telling you," Vance said, flicking his fingers lazily, "that merchant's firecrystals were fake. I've seen better enchantments in a school project."
Logan rolled his eyes. "Not everything needs to explode to be useful, man."
At the front of the group, Dorian led them with his usual composed stride. His robes fluttered lightly in the breeze as he navigated the path with quiet authority, occasionally glancing back to make sure none of his students wandered off into trouble—which, given their group, was always a real possibility.
As they walked deeper into the Arcane City, they passed through a marketplace bustling with activity. Merchants shouted over each other, selling potions, scrolls, trinkets, and magical pets. Floating platforms carried people from one part of the city to another, and spellcasters demonstrated low-tier magic tricks to entertain children and tourists alike.
"This city never gets old," Elias said, his voice carrying a note of pride.
Faith nodded, smiling. "It's alive. Every part of it hums with energy. It feels... safe here."
They moved slowly through the vibrant streets, taking in the sights, sounds, and magical hum that resonated in the air. Street performers danced with illusionary lights, merchants offered wares imbued with low-tier enchantments, and everywhere they looked, magic pulsed quietly.
As they continued walking, they passed a small crowd gathered around a street performer—an old man with a long silver beard who was conjuring flowers from thin air and handing them out to the laughing children. With each flick of his fingers, a new blossom would bloom in midair—roses of flame, lilies made of starlight, and glowing tulips that sparkled like glass.
The group slowed for a moment, watching the display. Elias stood slightly to the side, his eyes quietly fixed not on the magic, but on Faith. The way her eyes lit up at the sight, how she smiled without realizing it—something inside him stirred.
The old man caught Elias looking and, with a knowing smile, conjured a small bouquet of ethereal bluebells wrapped in a ribbon of light. He beckoned Elias closer and offered it without a word.
Elias blinked. "Uh... for me?"
The old man just winked. "You'll know what to do."
Elias hesitated, then took the flowers carefully. They were warm in his hands, pulsing softly with mana.
He walked a little faster to catch up with Faith, his heart thudding louder than it had any time during a battle.
"Hey," he said softly.
Faith turned, a question in her eyes, but before she could speak, Elias held out the bouquet.
"I saw these and... thought they'd look even prettier with you holding them."
Faith's eyes widened slightly as her cheeks turned a gentle pink. She took the flowers, her fingers brushing his. For a second, neither of them said anything.
Then she smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You're... really something, Elias."
Elias rubbed the back of his neck, looking down and grinning like an idiot. "I'll take that as a good thing."
"It is," she said, still holding the flowers close. "Thank you. They're beautiful."
Dante, a few steps behind, leaned toward Alice and whispered loudly, "Is it getting warm here or is it just awkward teenage romance?"
Faith turned and glared at him, but Elias just laughed, his nervousness easing into something gentler. The whole world felt quieter for a moment, even in the heart of the Arcane City.
As they continued walking toward the golden towers of the Arcane Council just beginning to peek over the skyline, Logan suddenly slowed his steps.
"Hey," he murmured, elbowing Vance gently. "Check that out."
Across the shimmering street, another team of young mages—clearly returning from their own mission—was making their way toward the council building. They looked seasoned, confident, and carried the same tired but proud expressions as Elias's group.
But Logan's eyes were locked onto one figure in particular—a girl walking near the front of the other group. Her long black hair shimmered like ink in sunlight, and her stride held an elegant precision. Her robe fluttered slightly with the wind, revealing the badge of a high-tier spellcaster.
Logan froze for a moment, blinking as if unsure whether what he saw was real.
Vance glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Whoa. Who hit you with the stun spell?"
Logan didn't answer right away. His eyes were still fixed. "I think I've seen her before... or maybe dreamed her..."
Vance snorted. "Bro. You are down bad. I've never seen you look at a human being like that. Is that—what's it called again—love at first sight?"
Logan shook his head, blinking back into the moment. "Shut up. I was just... surprised, okay?"
"Sure. Surprised by how hard you fell in two seconds."
Logan rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. As the other team passed by, the girl gave their group a brief glance—and for the shortest moment, her eyes met Logan's.
Logan looked away instantly, pretending to look at the streetlight.
Vance clapped him on the back. "Oh, you're so doomed. This is gonna be fun."
As they reached the grand gates of the Arcane Council, towering high with intricate rune-carved stone and guarded by silent sentinels, the atmosphere shifted. The playful banter faded, replaced by an air of seriousness that settled over the group like a quiet fog.
Dorian, who had been walking slightly ahead of them, suddenly paused. His sharp gaze fixed on the massive doors ahead, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Faith noticed his change in expression. "Dorian? Are you okay?"
He didn't respond immediately. His fingers curled slightly at his sides, and his shoulders tensed. Finally, he muttered, "I don't know. I feel... something's off."
Vance raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that? Did you sense something?"
Dorian shook his head slowly. "No. That's the thing. I didn't. And that's what worries me." His voice was calm, but beneath it was a thin thread of unease. "It's just a gut feeling, but I've learned not to ignore those."
Logan, trying to lighten the mood, smirked and crossed his arms. "Oh, it's nothing. I mean, we only lied to the Council about the second echo. Nothing to worry about."
Elias gave Logan a side glance. "You're not helping."
Logan shrugged. "Sarcasm is my coping mechanism."
Dorian let out a quiet sigh but didn't respond. His gaze remained on the gate, his instincts whispering that something unseen was waiting behind it.
Dorian exhaled slowly, his eyes still fixed on the gate for a moment longer before shaking his head.
"It must be nothing," he said, almost convincing himself. "I'm probably just tired. That's all."
He turned to face the group with a composed expression, nodding once. "Let's move."
The gates creaked open as if responding to his words, revealing the grand marble steps leading into the Arcane Council's inner sanctum. Without another word, the team followed Dorian inside, the mood more subdued now, shadows of uncertainty trailing behind them as they stepped into the heart of power once again.
As the group entered the grand marble hall of the Arcane Council, their footsteps echoed softly beneath the towering ceilings adorned with floating runes and banners bearing the sigils of each region of the magical world.
At the far end stood Alden and Varies. Both wore calm expressions, but their sharp eyes scanned the team intently.
Alden stepped forward with a gentle smile. "Ah, you've returned. Welcome back."
Varies nodded, his tone measured. "We received your letter regarding the mission. While it's unfortunate that it didn't go as planned, the fact that you all made it back safely is what matters most."
Faith bowed her head slightly. "Thank you, Councilor."
Alden's gaze softened. "Missions fail. But lives, especially ones with potential like yours, are far more valuable. You've done well to return unharmed."
Varies folded his arms. "You'll need to give us a full debrief soon. But for now—rest. We're glad you're all safe."
Dorian gave a respectful nod. "Of course. We'll report in shortly."
The team exchanged brief glances of quiet relief—at least for now, they had bought themselves time. But each of them knew: the questions were only just beginning.
As Dorian and Alden continued their composed conversation near the council's platform, Logan's eyes wandered—something wasn't sitting right.
He subtly nudged Vance. "Hey... do you notice something?"
Vance leaned in slightly, following Logan's gaze. "What?"
Logan's voice dropped. "The guards. There weren't this many here the last time we came. And a few of them... they're watching us. Directly."
Vance shifted his eyes and instantly picked up on it—almost a dozen guards stationed at different points in the hall, more than double the usual number. And three of them weren't even pretending to hide the way they were eyeing the group.
Vance muttered under his breath, "That's definitely not a welcome party."
Logan's tone was low, almost wary. "You think they're here for us?"
Vance shrugged, his usual smirk gone. "Either that, or someone's expecting something to go wrong."
Logan glanced toward Elias and Faith, who were still unaware, quietly exchanging words near the back. Then he looked to Dorian and Alden again. Something about this just didn't feel like a routine debrief.
Something was off.
As tension quietly brewed in the air, a faint crimson glow shimmered beneath Dante's coat—the Bloodthorn Daggers. One of them pulsed violently, and in a sharp whisper only he could hear, a voice echoed in his mind:
"Danger. Eyes on you. Blades drawn. Run."
Dante's eyes widened in shock. He instinctively clutched the hilt, his head snapping toward the guards. He scanned the room—more were now discreetly moving, circling like predators.
Then everything clicked.
"RUN!" Dante screamed, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. "THEY'RE HERE FOR US!"
The group turned, confused and alarmed. Elias's eyes locked with Dante's—one second was all it took to understand.
Varies stepped forward, his voice cold and thunderous:
"Capture them. Use force if needed."
In an instant, the peaceful air of the Arcane Council shattered. The guards drew weapons, magic igniting in their palms.
Elias, without hesitation, shouted, "MOVE! Now!"
The team scattered, instincts kicking in, as chaos erupted around them.
As the guards lunged forward, spells igniting in their hands and weapons drawn, Dorian's eyes flared with sudden focus. With a sharp motion of his hand, he stomped his foot forward and slammed his staff into the ground.
"₴ⱧłɆⱠĐ!" he roared.
A glowing dome of radiant golden energy erupted around the group just in time, absorbing the first wave of magical blasts and deflecting arrows mid-air with a sharp ringing sound. Sparks scattered across the marble floor of the council courtyard.
Faith flinched under the sudden burst of light but quickly regained her stance. "Thank the skies you were fast!"
Dorian grunted, sweat already forming on his brow. "This won't hold long—move, now!"
Logan and Vance darted to the sides, beginning counter-spells. Elias pulled Dante up beside him. "You good?"
Dante nodded quickly, eyes flickering to the guards beyond the shimmering shield. "We need an exit—fast!"
"On it," Elias growled, his hand already glowing faintly with dark energy as he began charging a spell, scanning for an escape route through the courtyard's maze of columns and corridors.
Dante sprinted toward the gate, the weight of urgency burning through his lungs. His grip tightened around his twin daggers — their faint hum vibrating with anticipation, alive in his hands. The world slowed for a heartbeat as two guards charged at him from either side, blades flashing silver under the Arcane City sky.
The first guard swung downward — a brutal, practiced strike aimed to cleave Dante's shoulder. But Dante dropped low, knees skidding against the stone, sparks erupting beneath his boots. With a vicious upward slice, his dagger tore through the man's inner thigh, blood spurting like a broken pipe. The scream was drowned beneath the chaos.
He twisted, rising just as the second guard lunged — a broadsword aimed straight for his chest.
CLANG!
Steel met steel as Dante crossed his daggers, locking the blow. His arms trembled from the force, but he didn't falter. With a roar, he shoved upward, creating just enough opening.
But before he could finish the move, a third guard came from behind and wrapped a burly arm around his neck, pulling him back in a chokehold. Dante gasped, vision pulsing red.
"Gotcha, little rat," the guard sneered.
Dante's grip didn't loosen. One dagger came up in a reverse hold, and with a savage snarl, he sank the blade into the guard's wrist — deep, twisting. There was a sickening crunch.
SPLURCH.
The blade tore straight through bone, severing the hand at the forearm.
The man shrieked, stumbling back, blood spraying in thick, hot arcs. His twitching, still-gloved hand remained lodged between Dante's shoulder and coat, fingers curled in death grip, blood soaking his collar. Steam rose from the fresh wound as it painted Dante's jaw and chest crimson.
He ripped the hand free and tossed it aside like trash.
"Touch me again," Dante growled, eyes wild, face painted in gore, "and I'll send the rest of you in pieces."
The remaining guards hesitated, just long enough for Dante to vanish through the gate's opening smoke.
Dante's boots slammed against the stone as he turned and saw them—Elias, Faith, Alice, Logan, Vance, all locked in a chaotic brawl, trying to hold back the onslaught of Arcane guards. Flames and spells lit the air like fireworks, clashing against steel and energy shields. The sight rooted Dante in place.
He gritted his teeth and took a step toward them, shouting, "I'm coming! I'm not leaving you—!"
Elias turned, blood on his cheek and fury in his eyes. "NO! You go! We'll handle this— you have a chance!"
But Dante didn't care. "I'm not leaving you behind!" he roared, surging forward.
Just as he did, Alice turned her head, her eyes glowing bright with focus. She cast a sudden wave of wind magic, and a burst of force struck Dante mid-sprint, lifting him off the ground and spinning him backward in mid-air. He crashed hard against the wall beside the gate, wind knocked out of him, eyes wide in shock.
"Dante!" Alice's voice rang through the chaos, breaking and desperate. "You have to listen to us!"
He blinked, dazed.
"Please," she cried, voice trembling. "Just once. Trust us. Run. We'll come back. We promise."
Dante looked at her—her face stained with ash, her hands glowing from the magic she'd just used, eyes shining with something more than fear. Something more than desperation.
Tears welled in his own eyes. He didn't want to run.
But he nodded.
He clenched his jaw, turned around, and with every ounce of strength left in his battered body, sprinted through the open gate.
More guards appeared in front of him, their weapons raised, but this time Dante didn't hesitate. Covered in blood, daggers spinning like wind, he cut through the thin line like a storm, slashing and dodging with savage precision.
His heart pounded louder than the battle behind him as he burst through the last wall of soldiers, disappearing into the labyrinth of Arcane streets.
They told him to run.
So he ran.
Dorian stood like a fortress amidst the chaos, his cloak billowing with raw magical force. Arcane energy swirled around him in blinding arcs as he moved with impossible speed and precision. One guard lunged—Dorian's hand flicked, and the man was blasted backward, armor shattering like glass. Another came from the side—Dorian spun, summoning a wall of blue flame that scorched the attacker mid-air.
"This is madness!" he roared, deflecting a barrage of spears conjured from pure magic. "They're just children!"
But the guards didn't stop.
Dorian clenched his fist, pulling the elemental threads of the air itself. "You want force?" he growled, voice low and furious. "Then face mine."
With a thunderous shout, he unleashed a massive arcane wave that sent a dozen guards crashing into the walls, weapons flying, shields splintering. The courtyard cracked beneath the force of his magic. Dust and sparks lit the scene like a war zone.
Then—two silhouettes stepped through the smoke.
Alden and Varies.
The senior council members. Their presence froze even the most hardened guards.
Dorian's eyes narrowed. "You dare?"
Alden raised a hand calmly. "You're too powerful to be let loose, Dorian. Even for you."
"You trained me," Dorian said, his voice sharp. "You know how this ends."
Without another word, both Alden and Varies launched their attacks in perfect synchronicity—one from the left, one from the right. Alden conjured a spear of crystalline mana, while Varies unleashed a binding chain made of ethereal light. Dorian raised both arms, casting a powerful barrier that shimmered and rippled as the attacks collided.
The force cracked the earth under them.
Dorian roared, hurling back a retaliatory blast that threw both of them off balance. He lunged forward—his palm glowing, ready to strike Alden directly.
But Alden's eyes flickered. A trap.
At that moment, the ground beneath Dorian shimmered—a glyph hidden beneath the stone activated, glowing with ancient runes.
"A binding sigil," Dorian gasped, realizing too late.
Chains of pure arcane energy shot upward and wrapped around his limbs, locking him in place mid-stride. His magic flared to resist, but the enchantment was laced with Varies' own stabilizing force, countering his every surge.
"Damn it—!" Dorian snarled, teeth clenched as he fought the binding.
Varies stepped forward, voice low and controlled. "You always were the strongest, Dorian... but you're predictable."
Alden, breathing heavy, added: "And we planned for you. You thought we wouldn't?"
Bound and struggling, Dorian's fury burned in his eyes—but he couldn't break free.
Behind them, his team was still fighting. And he could do nothing but watch...
Amid the chaos outside the Arcane Council's gates, Faith and Alice stood their ground, magic flaring around them like storm winds barely held in check.
Faith, her hands glowing with brilliant silver energy, summoned a shield to deflect a volley of arcane arrows hurled by a squad of elite guards. With a determined cry, she hurled a radiant bolt that blasted one guard off his feet, sending him crashing into the stone wall with a sickening thud.
Alice, ever graceful and lethal, danced between attackers with searing crimson whips of magical flame snaking from her palms. She snapped them outward, coiling them around the legs of two soldiers and yanking them off balance, slamming their heads against the cobblestone ground.
"Six o'clock, Alice!" Faith shouted.
Without looking, Alice twisted her wrist—the flames curled into a spiral, catching an incoming guard mid-leap and immolating him midair with a scream.
Faith moved quickly to her side, back to back with her. "They just keep coming!"
"Let them," Alice said with a smirk, sweat beading on her brow. "We're not done yet."
A brute of a guard charged at Faith, swinging a magically infused hammer. Faith ducked under the strike, slamming her hand to the ground, and a burst of luminous chains erupted, pinning the man's arms to the wall before she knocked him unconscious with a pulse of concussive energy.
Alice, panting, looked at her. "You're getting better."
Faith gave a small smile. "You're not so bad yourself."
They turned again, facing another wave. Their hair was wild, cloaks torn, faces smeared with dirt and blood—but their eyes still blazed.
They weren't going down.
Not yet.
On the other side of the battlefield, Logan and Vance stood shoulder-to-shoulder, surrounded, their breathing heavy but eyes burning with resolve.
Logan, his hands crackling with raw storm energy, unleashed a chain of lightning that danced from one guard to another. The bolts twisted through the air like serpents, leaving smoking bodies and scorched armor in their wake.
"That's five!" Logan shouted, wiping blood from his forehead.
Vance, smirking, raised a single hand. With a sharp whistle, the ground beneath a group of soldiers trembled—and suddenly spiked vines of hardened earth burst upward, impaling one through the leg and slamming the others aside with brutal force.
"Try seven," Vance replied, cocky.
A squad of reinforcements charged them from the rear. Logan spun, crossing his arms, and a protective barrier of wind erupted, sending debris and soldiers flying back like rag dolls.
"Not bad," Vance muttered, nodding. He flicked his wrist, and a barrage of small obsidian shards rained down from above, slicing through the incoming attackers with precision. Blood misted the air.
"I thought this was just a mission debrief," Logan grunted.
"We never get the easy ones," Vance replied, eyes scanning the chaos. "But hey, at least it's fun."
They gave each other a brief smirk, and then dove back into the fray, unleashing destruction side by side—a perfect storm of magic and grit.
Elias stood tall in the chaos—his cloak torn, his hands glowing with a radiant yet chaotic energy. Guards surrounded him from every direction, but his stance didn't falter. His breathing was heavy, his eyes sharp, blood dripping from the corner of his lip.
A senior guard lunged at him with a massive broadsword, but Elias raised both hands, and a spiral of compressed mana shot forward, hitting the guard square in the chest. There was a deafening sound—BOOM!—as the attack tore the man's body in two, blasting his armor apart and hurling the remains against the marble walls, painting them red.
More guards came, and Elias didn't stop. Arcane runes glowed across his arms, and he spun like a whirlwind, releasing bursts of elemental strikes—fire, wind, shadow—each finding its mark with lethal precision.
Then a sharp sting. One guard managed to get through. His blade sliced across Elias's face, just above his eye. The steel didn't touch the eyeball, but the cut was deep—blood poured into Elias's eye, blurring his vision.
Elias gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain. "I'm not done!" he roared, power surging from him again as he slammed his fist into the ground, sending a magical shockwave that cracked the stone and flung several attackers into the air like broken dolls.
The guards began to back off, some trembling, others dragging away the wounded. The raw force Elias had just shown terrified even the elite.
But then...
A sickening pressure filled the air.
Alden and Varies stepped forward, their expressions no longer calm—they were deadly serious now. They lifted their hands together, arcane symbols spinning around them like planets in orbit. The energy built up quickly, forming a roaring magical sphere, blinding and screaming with condensed power.
Elias turned his head, wide-eyed, knowing what was coming.
And then—
BOOOOM.
The blast exploded outward like a tidal wave of destruction. The air rippled, a high-pitched chiiiiiiiiiiiii sound cutting through the silence as everything slowed.
Smoke rolled thick across the battlefield.
Silence.
The entire courtyard lay in devastation. The team was scattered, motionless, like fallen warriors across a shattered dream. Sparks flickered in the air. Rubble and shattered stone lay everywhere.
From the haze, Faith groaned. Her vision swam. She forced herself onto one elbow, pushing against the burning ache in her limbs. Her ears still rang.
As the dust began to settle, her eyes widened.
Glowing magical chains slithered across the ground like snakes. They wrapped around her legs, her arms. She tried to scream, to resist—but the chains moved with eerie precision, binding her tightly.
She looked around—Elias, Alice, Vance, Logan—all being shackled, helpless.
They were captured.
The smoke still hung in the air like a veil.
The ground was a battlefield of shattered stone, drenched in blood and ashes, strewn with broken blades and severed limbs twitching in the embers. Smoke curled around the fallen, the silence broken only by the crackle of distant flames and the faint clinking of the magical chains binding the team.
Varies stepped forward, his robes untouched by the chaos, eyes burning with cold fury. He looked over the downed group like a disappointed god watching his failed creations.
He scoffed, voice deep and cutting through the air like a blade:
"What did you fools think?"
He paced slowly, gesturing at the blood-covered ground.
"That you could deceive us? That you—newborns who've barely scratched the surface of true power—could lie to the very hands that built this legacy?"
His voice grew sharper.
"We forged the foundations of this world's magic when your ancestors were still learning to walk. And yet, you dared to keep secrets. About the echoes. About Nyxoth. About him."
He stopped in front of Elias, who was still breathing hard, blood dripping from his brow.
"You thought the Arcane Council was blind? You thought we wouldn't feel the tremble in magic's flow? You're children playing with fire, and now..."
He raised his hand as magical glyphs spun behind him ominously.
"...you're going to burn in the flames you tried to hide.
END OF CHAPTER 15
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