CHAPTER 123: FAITHFUL SHADOWS

A few minutes before Aurelus’s flame transformation...

The city of Austerra was burning in more ways than one.

Smoke rolled like storm clouds above the rooftops, tinged orange by distant fires, while the echoes of clashing steel and thunderous spells cracked through the air.

In that chaos, Auren moved like a phantom.

His cloaking skill shimmered faintly around him, bending the air so that shadows clung tighter than they should.

From below, the soldiers of Austerra were frantic, their armor clattering as they combed the eastern streets.

But no matter how sharp their eyes or ears, none caught sight of the lone figure slipping by them with ease.

"That’s weird," Auren muttered under his breath, slowing his sprint.

He had been moving non-stop, stacking a speed skill on top of Falcon Focus while keeping his cloaking active.

Normally, such recklessness came with a price: dizziness, shortness of breath, or the hot sting of mana burn creeping into his veins.

Yet here he was, gliding across the city like his reserves were bottomless.

’How come I’m not feeling any symptoms of mana burn out yet?’

Unease prickled at the back of his mind.

He ducked into the shadow of a collapsed awning, sliding beneath a stack of crates, and shut his eyes. His breath steadied as he sank inward, into the stillness of his mental space.

’What’s this?’

His mana pool rippled into view, a tranquil lake that reflected a soft golden glow. At its center sat the egg—radiant, serene, and maddeningly unbroken.

Safe to say his questions are finally answered.

But something was different.

The egg, which had greedily devoured his mana since the day it appeared, now simply rested there. No siphoning, no gnawing hunger, just silence.

’Finally!’

Relief surged through him, pulling a grin across his face.

’Guess my leech of a bird finally decided to take a nap.’

He leaned closer in the vision, eyes narrowing. The shell gleamed with molten gold, unmarred by cracks or even the faintest twitch of life.

"Now that you’re done sucking me dry,"1he muttered, crouching down with a smirk, "you should probably break out of that shell already, you stupid bird."

Silence.

Normally, Bigbird would’ve barked back, squawking insults in that smug, ancient voice of his. Instead, the egg remained still.

Annoyed, Auren tapped a knuckle against it.

Tuk-tuk.

"Hey! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

The ripples of his mana lake wavered, but the egg didn’t so much as quiver.

Its surface felt impossibly solid—like steel masquerading as fragile shell.

"Heeey! Wakey-wakey, Bigbirdy!"

Pow. He punched lightly. Nothing.

Pow! Harder this time. Still nothing.

"Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you."

POW! His strongest strike cracked against it, but the egg didn’t even flinch.

Back in the physical realm, Auren opened his eyes with a defeated groan.

"It seems it’s not time for him to hatch yet."

He shook the dust from his cloak and pushed himself back into motion, legs pumping as he raced toward the western district.

His expression brightened, confidence swelling.

"At least now that I’ve got more mana, I can flex my skills longer." He chuckled. "Guess I’ll be unstoppable now."

If only he knew how badly he would need that edge.

Swooosh~

The rooftops blurred beneath his boots.

With each leap, his MJ Boots discharged bursts of mana, propelling him forward like a streak of wind.

The cityscape stretched before him—abandoned stalls, shattered glass, glowing wards flickering uselessly on broken walls. Every rooftop he crossed groaned faintly, as if the old wood couldn’t decide whether to hold or collapse.

He kept his steps light, careful to avoid drawing eyes. Yet his ears couldn’t ignore the tension seeping through the air.

"Stop moving like a slug, idiot! We only have fifteen minutes to set up!"

"Easy for you to say. I’m a mage, not a runner."

Auren froze mid-step, eyes narrowing.

’What do we have here?’

He crouched low, shadows clinging to him as he peered over the lip of the roof.

Two figures slipped into view, their forms ghostly under the glow of shattered lanterns.

The first carried a bluish crystal staff, frost glimmering faintly at its tip. The second bore an elegant bow strapped across his back, feathers on the string catching stray moonlight.

Both wore dark robes, hoods pulled low, faces hidden.

Auren’s gaze flicked upward. Above their heads shimmered the glowing text of their Divine Frames.

Name: Jerome

Level: 43

Class: Frozen Mage

Title: Faithful Child of the Dark Fate

*

Then for the other one:

*

Name: Chab

Level: 45

Class: Wind Bower

Title: Faithful Child of the Dark Fate

*

Auren’s stomach tightened.

’Children of Dark Fate...’

The whispers weren’t just rumors. They were here, bold enough to crawl into the city’s heart.’

’These guys are bad news. Should I take them down?’

He crouched deeper, the night air cool on his skin. The pair stopped at a corner, shadows stretching behind them.

Chab pulled a worn map, checked the markings, and nodded.

"This spot will do."

Jerome’s grin gleamed under his hood as he tugged out a runed orb, glowing with cold light.

"Well then, hurry up and plant it. I can’t wait to see the result."

Chab placed the orb carefully, channeling mana into its runes while muttering a steady incantation.

Auren’s sharp eyes caught the patterns glowing along its surface. He whispered under his breath.

"That line... elemental amplification. The L and V shapes—ice alignment. Hmmm..."

A puzzle snapped into place in his mind.

’It’s a mana transmitter. They’re channeling energy from a distant host... wait. Are they planning to strike the district with a blizzard spell?’

He clenched his jaw, ready to move—when his peripheral vision caught movement.

Not one group. Many.

He leapt to a higher roof, scanning the streets. His blood ran cold.

All around, in a near-perfect sphere, pairs of robed figures were moving in sync. Ten groups at least, all with the same orbs, all chanting the same incantation.

Each orb flared faint blue, as if the entire city had become a giant ritual circle.

’This is bad... Should I stop them? It won’t be just snow; it will be a storm!’

Then he saw it.

A small house at the street’s edge.

A single window glowed faint yellow. Inside, a family huddled beneath a table, children clinging to their parents with wide, tearful eyes.

Auren’s hesitation cracked.

’What am I even thinking?’

He pulled out the Magnum Krakaboom, the weapon humming as he loaded it with a bullet and raw mana.

"Why not stop these so-called faithful fools now that I’ve got mana to spare?"

His grin widened.

BANG!

...

Meanwhile, at the entrance to the underground prison, war raged on.

The once-grand gates had been reduced to twisted rubble. The streets surrounding it were a battlefield of corpses, shattered spears, and pools of blood that glistened under the flames.

Austerra’s battalion pressed hard, their battle cries mixing with the chants of mages and the sharp twangs of bowstrings.

"Keep firing! Their defenses will break soon! Knights, prepare to charge!" King Auborn’s voice rang out like steel.

Inside a half-collapsed barrier of enchanted stone, Wardon and Tanya slumped against the wall, chests heaving. Sweat and blood streaked their faces, their breaths ragged.

They pulled free their last reserves—glowing elixirs, cracked vials, and the final mana beans clutched in trembling hands.

"Hah... hah... can you still fight?" Wardon’s voice was low, weary. He swallowed a mana bean and tossed the last one to Tanya. His body flared faint blue as fresh energy trickled through him.

Tanya caught the bean, small as a thumb, and bit into it with a growl. The taste was bitter, acrid, but the rush of mana steadied her.

"What are you talking about, old man? Of course I can fight! I was born to fight!" Her laugh was harsh, yet her shaky stance betrayed her.

"The King just summoned another battalion," Wardon said grimly. "We’re outnumbered. If we fight another ten minutes, we—"

"Blah blah blah. Just get to the point, old man." She spat the husk to the ground, lifting her blood-stained greatsword.

"I’m saying we should escape." He pulled a pale teleportation stone from his pouch, its glow weak but steady.

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you serious? What about Wilfred? You’re saying we leave him?"

"Think, Tanya! We’ve been investigating long enough. Dark Fate is the bigger threat than this kingdom."

"I know," she hissed. "But I’d rather die here than abandon him."

"You fool." Wardon pressed his palm to his forehead.

"You smart, but scaredy man." Her smirk was sharp, though her grip trembled as she readied her blade.

"It’s not too late," Wardon tried again.

"How about this," she cut him off. "You go. Report to His Majesty. I’ll find Wilfred, if I make it out. And if I don’t... bring my sword home."

Her gaze was hard as stone.

"...Alright," he whispered.

...

Back on the district, Auren stood over the fallen forms of Jerome and Chab.

The cloaking had made his approach effortless. Two bullets, clean to the head, and they were nothing but cooling corpses.

But when he bent to pick up the orb, his heart lurched.

Power flooded through him, raw and scorching, a force he recognized too well.

’Austaire? But why is it so much stronger?’

He whipped his head westward. Beyond the distant gardens, a light blazed—bright, golden-yellow, tearing against the night like dawn breaking too early.

Auren’s blood boiled.

"That’s... the direction of our meeting place!"

His grip tightened on the orb.

And then, without hesitation, he sprinted.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

This doesnt sound well lol