As the Fifth Vanguard reached the final ridge, the fortress-city of Argentis revealed itself below—a narrow ribbon of stone trapped between jagged mountain walls.
At their approach, squads moved along the towering side walls. Moments later, the deep grinding of ancient gears shattered the silence as the gates slowly heaved open.
Just inside the gatehouse, the knights seized a drunken militiaman and dragged him forward. The man barely resisted, swaying as he laughed under his breath.
"I don't answer to you," he slurred. "Only take orders from the Mayor…"
A knight stepped forward, voice sharp with suspicion. "You expect us to believe that? This town stands under Zenith control—have you forgotten who rules here?"
The militiaman only grinned, unfazed.
The Captain's expression hardened. "Enough. You'll take us to him."
The man gave no clear answer, but he did not resist.
The Captain pulled his horse to a halt, his voice cutting cleanly through the still air. "Deploy the squads. Scour the city for anything edible or useful. Finding Nullifier-Cores is the absolute priority."
He paused, then added, more measured, "Search for civilians as well. I want to know where they are—and why this place feels like a grave."
He turned to his officers. "Leave a detachment here. Secure the gate and the wagons. If this is a trap, I won't have our supplies falling into enemy hands."
Orders spread quickly. Knights broke formation, moving with discipline as the Vanguard advanced.
They marched into Argentis, their boots echoing hollowly against dark basalt streets. The city felt suffocating—every building along the main road pressed tightly together, shopfronts forming an unbroken wall of stone and wood. Behind them, residential homes rose in cramped layers, stacked two-deep like they had been forced upward just to breathe.
Curtains shifted faintly in narrow windows.
But no one spoke.
No dogs barked. No birds called.
Only silence followed them.
At the edge of the borderlands near the Dorfr Kingdom, the Lieutenant stopped Kael before they entered the town.
"What exactly do you need to fix the Nolfair?" he asked.
Kael adjusted the tools at his belt, his expression tight. "The Nolfair runs on bound aether cores—crystals that hold and circulate mana through its frame. Without a stable core, the flow collapses. The wagons won't move… and if we force it, the whole system could burn out." He paused, glancing ahead. "We need a refined crystal—one that can withstand constant mana strain. Not something you find in a place like this."
Even so, the Lieutenant sent knights with him.
The town was small, worn thin by its place on the frontier. Their search turned up nothing but abandoned forges and empty quenching troughs. Hope faded quickly.
Kael refused to give up. He dug through scrap heaps behind broken workshops, metal clinking under his hands, until he uncovered a handful of brass fittings and cracked crystal holders. Sweat and grease smeared his face as he stood.
"I can't replace the core," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "But I can patch the flow—buy us a few more leagues."
Still, they needed a proper crystal.
They searched again. Kael inspected every shard he could find, holding them to the light, feeling for the faint hum of mana. Each time, he shook his head.
"Too unstable… fractured… drained…"
Then Sara's voice cut through the frustration. "I found one!"
Kael turned sharply. She stood a few paces away, holding a faintly glowing crystal in both hands. It pulsed softly, like a heartbeat.
He stepped closer, taking it carefully. For a moment, he said nothing, eyes narrowing as he felt the mana within it—steady… resilient.
Sara shifted nervously. "Will it work?"
Kael glanced at her, the tension in his face easing. He gently rested a hand on her head. "I think it might." Then his gaze returned to the crystal, more serious now. "But one won't be enough. We need more like this."
A flicker of movement.
Too late.
A knight stepped from behind them, sword already descending.
Kael's instincts took over. He shoved Sara aside, the blade slicing through the air where she had stood. Steel rang as it struck stone.
"Run!" he shouted.
But there was no escape.
The other knights closed in, their expressions cold, weapons drawn. Whatever loyalty they had was gone.
Kael gripped his hammer, raising it just in time to block a strike. The impact jolted through his arms. He staggered, barely holding his ground.
Sara didn't hesitate. She moved with desperate speed, grabbing a fallen blade. When one of the attackers lunged, she struck—awkward but fierce. The sword drove deep. The knight fell.
Kael tried to fight, but he wasn't a warrior. Blow after blow forced him back. A blade cut across his side, another grazing his shoulder. Pain flared, hot and blinding.
"Sara—go!" he gasped.
She stayed.
Another strike hit him, sending him to one knee. His hammer slipped from his grip, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Blood soaked into his clothes as he forced himself up again, stumbling backward.
He ran.
Each step was heavier than the last. His vision blurred. The sound of armored footsteps closed in behind him.
This is where it ends—
A sudden burst of light tore through the air.
Blinding. Pure.
It struck the pursuing knight, throwing him back as if the world itself had rejected him. The force rippled outward, scattering dust and silence in its wake.
Kael staggered, barely staying on his feet. He turned, heart pounding, eyes wide in shock.
Someone stood behind him.
No… not someone.
A figure clad in radiant white armor, flawless and gleaming. Wings of shimmering mana spread wide from their back, each feather formed of light itself, shifting and flowing like living energy.
An angel.
Kael could only stare, breath caught in his throat, as the being stepped forward—its presence calm, yet overwhelming, like standing before a divine storm.