The rooftops became her road.
She took one last look at the slavers’ formation—torches flickering like angry fireflies in the fog—then moved. Her boots made no sound on the tiles. The wind from the canal carried the smell of brine and oil, and the faint hum beneath her glove answered like a heartbeat preparing for battle.
She crossed the first alley with a leap, landed, rolled, and rose in one smooth motion. Behind her, shouting began—orders barked, chains rattling.
They were already moving the captives.
The western bridge appeared through the haze: an old stone span streaked with moss, its underside lit by the warm glow of a single lantern.
Eis descended from the last rooftop like a shadow breaking free of the night.
Cool, damp air clung beneath the stone arch. Water lapped quietly against the supports.
Team Argent had already gathered:
- Ronan, crouched over a map lit by a hooded lamp.
- Lira, quietly enchanting her spell-focus rings and preparing support runes.
- Kael, stringing his longbow and adjusting the quiver at his side.
Ronan looked up as Eis stepped into the lantern glow. His posture shifted immediately.
“You’re early,” he said.
Eis shook her head. “No. They’re early. They’re moving the captives now—within thirty minutes.”
Kael straightened, bow still in hand.
“How many?”
“Two patrols at the southern docks. One guarding the grate. And strong bloodstone resonance at the aqueduct.”
Ronan rolled the map and pulled out a silver orb in one brisk motion.
“Then we move now. I’ll alert the guild.”
Lira muttered something sharp under her breath and activated her wrist sigils.
“So much for easing into it.”
Eis added, “They’re organized. But they won’t panic until they see us. We cut the route to the tunnels first.”
Ronan tapped the bridge column.
“Kael, you take canal edge and snipe any runners. Lira, high ground—cover and support spells. Eis, you’re with me. We breach the grate and hit the side-cells.”
Eis nodded.
“Understood.”
Team Argent moved like a practiced unit:
- Kael vanished into the mist, bow low and steps silent.
- Lira climbed a wooden beam to the rooftop, her spell-rings glinting faintly.
- Ronan readied his twin blades and motioned for Eis to follow.
The plan was simple and deadly:
- Kael cuts off escape routes with arrows.
- Lira supports from above—barriers, slows, and offensive bursts.
- Eis and Ronan breach the aqueduct before the slavers seal the wards.
The mist thickened around them, cool and metallic.
Ronan gave a single nod.
“We move on your mark.”
Stealth was no longer a priority. Lives were at stake. Eis would not hold back and use all the tools at her disposal.
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She stepped forward. The raid began.
Ronan slid the grate open by a few inches.
Kael’s silhouette melted along the canal wall.
Lira’s faint glow shifted above as she prepared her spells.
Eis slipped through the gap, Ronan at her flank.
The first patrol stood nearby—three slavers around a brazier, checking sigils on chains. Relaxed. Unprepared.
Perfect.
Her crossbow ready.
Eis fired.
The bolt struck the nearest guard between the shoulders. He dropped instantly.
Two others spun—
Straight into Quickbind.
Ghostly manacles clamped around their arms and legs, pinning them to the cold stones.
Eis crushed another card into motes of thick smoke. Torches blurred. Shapes dissolved into gray.
The chaos opened the battlefield:
From the misty canal edge, Kael’s bow thrummed—
thwk—thwk
Two slavers fell before they could shout.
On the rooftop, Lira traced a glowing sigil in the air.
A soft pulse of concussive mana rippled downward—silent but powerful—toppling another guard into the water before he could reach for a horn.
Ronan advanced through the confusion, Eis gliding beside him like the edge of a storm.
They reached the grate.
The bloodstone ward over the lock thrummed with a sick red pulse.
Ronan pulled a guild tool, carved a sharp sigil, and forced it open with a muted snap.
“In.”
They entered the aqueduct.
The inner tunnels were damp, narrow, torchlit.
The first cell block held three captives—gaunt, terrified.
Ronan smashed locks. Eis cut through weakened manacles, using Light Mend to close shallow wounds.
Two slavers lunged in from the hall—Eis trapped them in lingering Quickbind strands long enough for Ronan to knock them out.
Then the resistance intensified.
Team Argent moved like a single blade:
- Lira, from above, dropped targeted mana pulses that staggered incoming defenders.
- Kael shot through narrow slits in the stone, each arrow landing clean.
- Ronan kept the front line pushed back.
- Eis handled precision—binding, crippling, and striking weak points.
They cleared corridor after corridor, freeing captives.
Then—they reached the turning point.
A bloodstone ward detonated ahead—
a violent, invisible force slamming Ronan into a support pillar.
He grunted but recovered.
The ambush had been sprung.
Six mana-augmented enforcers emerged, armor gleaming, eyes glowing with artificial implants like the man who had tampered with Eis’s spellcards.
Eis reacted instantly.
Cards flared in her hands.
Arc shot— scorched spiral— Earth shard.
A storm of controlled destruction.
- Four enforcers dropped—convulsing or shattered.
- Two staggered, wounded.
- One, rune-eye flickering, struggled upright.
Ronan regained stance. Eis lifted her crossbow.
The bolt hit the exposed gap beneath the man’s jaw, shattering the implant.
He fell.
Ronan surged forward. Eis followed—knife flashing, cards burning.
Together they crushed the remaining defenders.
The deeper vault lay ahead: three cells, two bloodstone warded doors, and an altar engraved with Vauren’s half-sun-and-chains emblem.
Captives inside—two attuned mages and several civilians—looked up with desperate hope.
Ronan freed locks; Eis cut through iron and supported the weakest.
One attuned mage whispered hoarsely:
“Vauren… he’s moving everything… to the Sun Vault…”
Ronan exhaled sharply and looked at Eis.
“We push deeper and risk being cut off…
or withdraw now with everyone we’ve saved.”
The warded tunnel beyond pulsed with bloodstone light.
The choice hung heavy.