Chapter 457: Chapter 457- A Storm Brews.

Further down the criss-cross roads of the Transport Port was a humble, medium-sized building.

Its outward appearance was that of a standard corporate office, but the number of guards around the Building described it as anything but humble.

Each guard was a Knight. A System user of course, whose levels preceded the aura of strength they exuded.

At least at the 80th level.

In other words, 8th stars… Masters.’

Darrell observed the view from a distance away from the front door.

His arms were placed in his corporate trousers, and a low whistle played from his lips as he looked around.

The area around the Portal Station was calm and empty. A stark contrast to the bizarre number of people where the Carriages were placed.

It was intriguing.

A pause for thought as he enjoyed the sudden peace after walking down a stream of endless noise.

But like every moment, it was ephemeral.

His attention drifted from the building to the girl who stood in front of the door.

In silence, they glanced at each other before continuing into the building.

A few seconds more walking, and excruciating silence and the Coachman had finally led them to their end goal.

They had walked past closed rooms, Silent Mages, and a few Intellectuals discussing one or two theories.

A Portal Station was a place that ventured into both magic and physical work, but it was also a place where scholars met.

After all, these portals needed not just maintenance but future upgrades, and they were here for exactly that.

In a few minutes, they had reached a door, walked through it and arrived in a large, spacious room.

Darrell, who walked in last, had already begun to scan his surroundings.

Unlike the other scattered and visibly work-driven rooms they had passed by, this one seemed to be different in many ways.

The ground, for example, had been changed from tiled concrete to a lush, carpeted green. Quite comparable to a well-trimmed lawn.

The walls were far apart, and marked places beside them were tables. Empty, unlike others, but its odd features said anything but.

Darrell had assumed it was used for experiments or the like when they wanted to put their research into practice.

The roof was quite far apart from the ground, and more so than the rest of the office.

Its material was of glass, which let in sunlight and elements of the weather, as it seemed malleable to the occupants’ interest.

Finally, five Mages were seen tasking themselves with one work or the other.

Discussing and going about their daily lives like they always did.

Typical work life.

And in the middle of that room was a large stone slab.

Ornate, intricate patterns lay on the surface, sides and top of it, and its shape took a semi-circle which rose high on a levelled platform.

From its surface, and the space in the middle where the portal would be projected, an ethereal hue exuded.

Light, vibrant patterns of mana surging through it, and the patterns hummed in a dim light.

From the door, Darrell had observed in awe.

His lips curled into a faint smile while his thoughts reeled in.

‘Humans and their ingenuity.’

It was one of the few reasons Elves had decided to ally with them.

Humans were many things. Evil. Self-centered. Shallow– but more than that, they were smart. Stubborn. Persistent.

They made their lives comfortable by taking risks… making absurd theories and putting them into practice.

Artefacts. Special Weapons. Appliances.

One didn’t need to think twice to realise the intelligence of men, and the Elves… and so many other Demi-humans didn’t miss this.

“Right this way.”

The Coachman gestured for a path that led to the front of the giant stone structure, while signalling for the Mages to get to work.

In a second, the room sparked with movements.

The Mages were at work, and the room was beginning to spark with something subtle, electrifying and very much familiar.

‘Mana.’

Darrell concluded as he watched them in motion.

Two of them pulled out shiny orbs. Mana crystals. Two pairs of them. These were highly volatile in nature, but valuable in their application. And the Mages knew exactly how to make use of it.

Walking towards the Stone frame, they walked behind it and inserted it into carefully placed patches.

Immediately, the dimly lit entrails sparked with a vibrant hum.

A small gust of mana and wind surging out in a concentric circle as thin lines of mana surged from the edges into the opening and erupted a small portal.

Like a well-orchestrated music band, two other Mages, who had been standing at the front, placed their arms out and poured out their mana towards that small Portal.

Slowly, but gradually, the portal began to increase in size and life.

Activating with such ease, as if it were meant to.

Darrell and Fiona had been so drawn to the spiral doorway that they had not noticed the fifth and last Mage, who stood by their presence.

Though, his focus was on the Coachman.

“Where to?” The male Mage asked with a lazy tone in his voice. His eyes darted slowly between the two Elves behind him.

“The Eastern Forest?” He asked.

The Coachman nodded slowly.

“The Silver Palace.”

The Mage’s gaze flared slightly at the reply as he turned to the two Elves, once more.

His eyes squinted for a second, before his entire body prostrated.

“Please forgive my rudeness, Prince Darrell and aide.”

Darrell flinched for a second before a careless smile appeared on his face.

“Nevermind, Mage. Are we set to leave?”

The man nodded vehemently and stretched his hand forward.

“Right this way.”

His tone had changed, together with his posture.

And so did the other Mages who witnessed the scene.

Royalty was Royalty for both humans and demi-humans alike.

So it didn’t matter that they were of different races.

To them, Prince Darrell was akin to one of the Princes of the Kingdom.

Darrell nodded as he strolled forward while Tiara lingered behind.

In silence, they strolled along the pathway and stood at the front of the Portal.

Darrell turned to Tiara.

“You ready to see home again?”

Tiara shifted slightly before glancing his way. And her reply was a silence Darrell was used to.

So, instead, he shifted his question.

“Will you give your greetings to our Mother tree?”

The Mother Tree was the Tree of Life.

The blessing of Gaia over their lives.

Elves of old and young knew the tale of the Tree, and the wondrous gifts it had given them.

So much so that even in times of war between tribes of the same race, they would all bow and give their respects to the same Tree.

Their Eternal Apostle of their goddess.

Tiara’s expression weakened from his question.

So much so that she turned away, instantly.

‘Hah… I got her, this time.’ Darrell mused as he watched her slowly and subtly nod in response.

“Let us go, then.”

He glanced away and adjusted his posture as the Portal surged alive.

Taking the full space of the Large Stone Slah which easily dwarfed the Mages and the Elves around it.

The archway began to pulse with the vibrant, iridescent colours of emerald and violet. Spinning with rigorous speed.

“CO-ORDINATES SET!”

A mage screamed.

“PORTAL SET!”

Another announced.

The Mage who stood next to the Elvin Royalties nodded in reply as he gestured to them.

“You may depart.”

Prince Darrell and Princess Tiara of the Elvin Race walked through the portal with a full heart.

Mixed feelings ran through their systems as they headed Home.

***

Far away from the peace was a boiling tension and the clouds reveles in it.

They shook with a vigorous energy, and within them, a terrible storm brewed.

A stagnant wave of vermilion lightning and powerful currents of tornadoes that whipped in the air like a vicious snake.

It was a destruction that refused to disperse and flowed in continuous streams of crackling vibrations and mighty projection.

It shook the heavens with its mighty roar.

Calamity-sized thunder slapping against themselves while they ravaged the clouds with purpose, like it had an unresolved grudge, yet to be fulfilled.

The sky was painted a tint, crimson-black, a colour testament to the sublime destruction of the persistent natural disasters that quaked it.

The nature of which seemed normal, but the sparkling red energy dancing on the canvas said anything but.

An energy of destruction, miasma, the energy of demons and devils.

It was a mesmerising sight, yet it spelt poems of chaos and death– a warning to stragglers, a haven for its kin.

And floating in the middle of all this, was a castle, tall, dark, pointy and most especially, malevolent.

It stood at the precipice of the crimson-black clouds as the constant lightning streams seemed to miss it.

Dancing across it as if worshipping its walls and the ancient hue of the Castle.

For many years, this construction had stood in plain sight, yet its Territorial Space was a rare case among many.

Capable of hiding the largest of constructs in a natural disaster.

This building, the Crimson Castle, was home to the despicable nature of humankind–The Red Peacemakers.