The wind was still the moment Calenthir's portal snapped shut behind them

"that's the nearest i can take all of us" calenthir said.

Fianna stepped forward first, her boots crunching on damp soil covered in reddish moss. A rusted, broken tower loomed in the distance, almost swallowed by the crooked trees of the Red Forest.

They had arrived.

"That was... unpleasant," Kairos muttered, rubbing his arms as though trying to shake off the air itself.

"You're just nervous," Calenthir replied softly, her tone light but her eyes scanning the forest around them.

"No, she's right," Fianna said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The mana here... it feels wrong. Like it's trying to crawl up my spine."

Oliver chuckled, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well, that's comforting."

Lyrius adjusted the straps on his weapon as he surveyed the perimeter. "Northern tower is about 900 meters through those trees," he said.

Fianna pulled out a parchment—a faintly glowing map encoded with the Bastion's old structure.

"We can cut through that ridge to the left. Slopes are shallow there. Less chance of pressure runes or buried charms."

"Makes sense," Kairos nodded. "Also, less open space. Beasts love open lines of attack."

As they started walking, Calenthir drifted a little closer to Lyrius, looping her arm through his without a word.

"Cold?" he asked, glancing down.

"No," she said quietly. "Just... scared."

He didn't respond—just let her hold on.

After a few minutes, they saw the tower.

Half of it was buried underground, its only entrance a wide, moss-covered staircase leading below. Black iron reinforced the stone, and faint glowing lines etched into the walls gave away the presence of old, still-active magic.

"That's it," Lyrius confirmed. "Detection system should be inside that vault—three layers, one behind the other. If we trip even one…"

"Yeah," Kairos interrupted, voice low. "We don't make it to the main gate. Or worse—everyone else doesn't."

Oliver stretched, rotating his shoulders as he looked at the sealed door. "Guess it's on us."

Fianna took a breath, trying to steady herself.

"Let's go over it one last time," she said.

They stopped just short of the stairs, and formed a loose semi-circle.

Oliver crouched and traced a crude triangle into the dirt with a stick.

"Layer one: Mana-lock," he said. "It's old-school. Hardwired, stone-set. We break it using sheer brute force—fianna and I'll handle it."

Kairos gave a small nod. "No spells—manual pressure only. If we channel mana too early, we risk activating the second layer prematurely."

"Layer two," Calenthir picked up, "is an arcane cipher loop. I'll isolate the overlapping magic threads. I might need time, though—it's ancient logic, and it's probably rotting from within."

"Not too much time," Lyrius added.

Fianna looked at him. "Which brings us to Layer three."

He nodded. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt

"A bloodline-based resonance core. The idea is simple—if it doesn't recognize your mana signature, it triggers a cascade alert."

"But if it does?" Oliver asked.

"Then it lets you in. Or at least, gives you a few seconds before it explodes."

Everyone looked at him.

"...Not helping," Kairos said.

"kairos and I have the closest match to pre-epoch signatures. We'll anchor the field as caspian said—."

Calenthir pulled back her hood slightly and looked toward the descending stairs. The entrance yawned open, the runes around the arch now pulsing slowly—like something inside was listening.

"Once we're in," she said quietly, "we don't talk unless we have to. And no magic unless it's absolutely necessary."

"If we trigger anything," Lyrius added, "we run. We don't fight—not unless we're cornered. There's no honor in dying before the real battle starts."

"Agreed," Fianna said, then turned to Calenthir. "You're still okay holding the exit portal when we're done?"

Calenthir nodded.

"I'll keep it warm. But it's a one-way trip. Once we activate the charges, we leave within 45 seconds. No second jumps."

Kairos sighed. "Why does this feel like the warm-up is harder than the mission?"

"Because it is," Lyrius said.

Oliver grinned.

....

The clearing near the warped stone of the Bastion's outer perimeter was cold.

The portal that had taken Unit 1 to the northern tower had long since vanished.

Caspian stood a few steps ahead of the others, arms folded, eyes tracking the faint outline of the Bastion in the distance. He could see the southern spires jutting out like broken ribs. Crumbling towers wrapped in shadow. The air shimmered near the top — subtle, like oil floating on water — a sign of the corruptive aura leaking from the heart of the Bastion.

He turned to the others, his voice steady — if only just.

His words carried across the gathered teams. Twenty students now, standing in small clusters — checking weapons, adjusting armor, and running mental drills. The tension was there in the way no one really spoke.

"Unit 1 is in position," Caspian continued. "Until they disable the detection system and trap net, we don't move."

He took a breath, then gestured toward the stone slab beside him — a flat map etched into enchanted crystal, showing rough locations of the five major teams and the Bastion's known structure.

"Once the signal comes in," he said, "we'll split as assigned."

He stepped to the map, his gloved hand hovering over it as he outlined the orders one more time — clearly, for everyone.

"Unit 2 – under Darian – and Unit 3 – under Vynesaa – will move directly toward the Bastion's central structure. You'll coordinate on breaching and destroying the Heart."

"That core is ancient. It's not just magic—it's bloodline-level suppression. We kill it, we kill their power."

He tapped the outer shell of the Bastion diagram.

"Unit 4 will act as outer sentries—flanking and providing long-range support. Your job is to keep beasts off Units 2 and 3. You don't engage unless necessary. Priority is buying time."

Then he looked northward, toward the broken hillline.

"Unit 5—your task is reconnaissance. You'll scour the eastern and western trenches for hidden passageways. The fortress has old servant tunnels. If we find one, that becomes our exit route once the core is destroyed."

Some heads turned at that. There had been no confirmed map of such paths.

"It's a gamble," Caspian admitted. "But if we stay on the surface too long, reinforcements from the beasts garrisons will corner us. We need a clean exit."

He pulled out a small, rune-etched disc from his side pouch — the transmission relay.

"Unit leaders — you'll report progress through these. Either by sound transmitter or direct link through the radio channel."

He passed smaller relay runes to Vynesaa, Darian, Lyria, and Alric — each representing a team leader.

"Keep messages short. Ten-second reports. Every five minutes."

The light breeze returned — cold and dry, brushing past Caspian's face like a whisper. His fingers closed around the transmission disc again.

"We wait for Unit 1 to disable the alert network. Once the trap net goes down... we move."

There was nothing more to say.

He looked across the others. Faces tense. Some afraid. Some eager. A few too confident. But all ready.

Some would not return.

But they all knew what they had signed up for

Then suddenly

WOOOOOOO.....! ALARM SHOUTED.