Kaelen’s breath caught as the tension around them thickened. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, just a faint sense of wrongness, a disturbance in the air that sent a chill down his spine. He glanced toward the treeline, his eyes narrowing as his senses sharpened.


    They weren’t alone.


    It was unmistakable now. Someone or something was watching them from beyond the treeline, hidden, waiting.


    Before he could process the thought fully, Andras’s voice erupted into the cold air, cutting through the stillness with a sharp, biting edge. "Varyk!" His fury was palpable, his tone daring. "Stop hiding behind your people, you coward! Face me!"


    The battlefield stilled momentarily as Andras’s challenge echoed through the night. He wielded a Titanbreaker rifle, a massive, shoulder-mounted weapon designed to unleash devastating energy blasts. The rifle''s sleek, metallic surface was etched with intricate circuits that glowed with a menacing red light, powered by a core of condensed arcane energy. In the other, his sword vibrated faintly with energy, casting a soft glow around him.


    Aria’s team was spread out, watching the mercenaries closely. She exchanged a quick glance with Leira, their mutual understanding clear. Kaelen noticed how calm Aria remained, but her calm was dangerous—it was the kind of calm before a storm.


    "Still hiding, Varyk?" Aria’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and unyielding. She stepped forward, her raven-black hair catching the moonlight as she leveled her gaze at the mercenaries. "Come out and face us, or have you finally realized what a mistake it was to take on Aether?"


    From the shadows, Varyk’s voice slithered through the air, thick with disdain. "Always so self-righteous, Arcanist. You think because you command a little light, it makes you untouchable?" He emerged from the darkness, walking toward them with an unsettling calm. His green eyes gleamed, the cold smirk etched on his face betraying the malice beneath. "But your light won’t save you from the darkness."


    Kaelen could feel the palpable hatred Varyk directed at the two factions. Aria’s jaw clenched, but she stood her ground, unfazed by Varyk’s taunts. Behind her, Elyndra and Morrigan prepared their weapons, while Skarath’s imposing figure loomed in the background, his eyes never leaving Varyk.


    "You''ve always been delusional, Varyk," Aria said coldly. "Aether will never bow to your twisted visions. Nor will Core."


    Andras shot her a sharp glance, his voice cutting through the tension. "You know him?" The disbelief in his tone was impossible to miss.


    Aria didn''t look at Andras, her gaze fixed on Varyk. "We''ve crossed paths before."


    Varyk chuckled darkly, his smirk deepening. "Aether, Core... It’s all the same to me. Arrogant fools grasping at power they don’t understand." He lifted an object in his hand, and Kaelen’s stomach tightened at the sight. The artifact shimmered with both ancient magic and advanced technomancy, its strange design pulsing faintly, as if alive.


    Andras stepped forward, his eyes locked on Varyk. "What is that?" he demanded, his voice sharp. His grip tightened around his weapons, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring.


    Varyk raised the artifact slightly, its energy fluctuating ominously. "This?" He sounded amused, like a teacher explaining a simple concept to a slow student. "This is what levels the playing field. A little something I’ve… refined. A mix of technomancy and magic—far beyond what you children in Core and Aether have managed."


    Kaelen’s eyes flickered to the artifact. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just some tool or weapon. He could feel the energy radiating from it, dark and unnatural. His instincts flared, warning him of its danger, but before he could voice his concern, the situation escalated.


    Andras took a step forward, his rifle raised in a clear challenge. "Drop it, Varyk. I’ve dealt with your kind before. This ends now."


    "You think you can stop this?" Varyk’s voice dripped with mockery. He looked from Andras to Aria, his eyes filled with disdain. "You’re both relics of failing systems. This world isn’t meant for the likes of you anymore."


    Kaelen noticed the shift in Varyk’s mercenaries as the tension spiked. Weapons were drawn, hands clenched tighter around their guns, their eyes sharp with anticipation. The unease in the air became suffocating.


    Suddenly, without warning, the mercenaries launched their attack.


    Energy blasts exploded from the treeline, and the battlefield erupted into chaos. Kaelen and Lyrian ducked instinctively as a volley of glowing rounds sliced through the air. The mercenaries were quick and coordinated, their movements precise as they advanced with brutal efficiency.


    Aria’s hand shot out, and a shimmering shield of light erupted around her team, deflecting the incoming fire. "Hold the line!" she shouted to her team, her voice clear and commanding. Leira immediately ignited a wall of flame between them and the advancing mercenaries, forcing them to fall back momentarily.


    Andras’s voice was a sharp bark over the comms. "Engage! Push them back, but don’t let them surround us!"


    Jax, with his pulse cannon, fired off several rounds, the energy slamming into the nearest mercenaries and sending them crashing into the ground.


    Nyra deployed her drones, which immediately spread out, creating an aerial shield and tracking enemy movements in real time. The rest of the attack drones launched a barrage from above, raining down energy projectiles on the mercenaries. Some were hit, their armor sizzling from the impact, while others managed to activate their shields just in time, deflecting the assault with flashes of crackling energy. The battlefield lit up with a chaotic dance of offense and defense, as both sides pushed their technology and magic to the limit.


    Rina was at the back, managing the tactical overlays and providing data to everyone through their visors.


    Kaelen moved fluidly, his blade flashing as he cut down an advancing mercenary. In his other hand, his pulse pistol fired rapidly, the energy bolts striking down targets with deadly precision. Beside him, Lyrian ducked under a shot and fired back, his own pistol emitting a bright burst of energy. The fight was intense, and for every mercenary they downed, another seemed to take their place, the endless waves pushing them to their limits.


    Through the haze of battle, Kaelen caught glimpses of the artifact still in Varyk’s hand, its glow pulsing in rhythm with the energy blasts. His instincts screamed at him to get closer, to understand what it was, but the mercenaries kept coming, blocking his path.


    The fight had spilled into the forest now, where the terrain was uneven and visibility limited. Trees provided cover, but also made it easier for the mercenaries to strike from the shadows. Kaelen ducked behind a large tree, breathing heavily as he scanned the area.


    That’s when he felt it again—that presence.


    It was faint, almost like a whisper at the edge of his consciousness, but it was there. Watching. Waiting. His eyes darted through the treeline, and for a moment, he thought he saw movement—something or someone lurking in the darkness.


    Before he could investigate, Varyk’s voice rang out once again, cutting through the noise of battle. "Enough!"


    The mercenaries immediately stopped their assault, pulling back to regroup. The silence that followed was eerie, the tension palpable as everyone stood still, weapons ready but not firing.


    Kaelen’s heart raced—not from fear, but from the cold realization that something far more dangerous was at play. Varyk wasn’t just here to fight. He had a plan. And whatever it was, it involved that artifact.


    As the mercenaries pulled back, Varyk stood at the center, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Do you see now?" he called out, his voice calm but carrying a weight that made everyone listen. "This isn’t your fight to win. It never was. You’re all just pieces on the board."


    Kaelen’s hand instinctively tightened around his weapons, his eyes narrowing as Varyk’s words sunk in. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.


    Varyk’s smirk deepened as he slowly, deliberately, placed the artifact on the ground. The pulsating energy surrounding it flickered briefly, casting eerie shadows around the clearing. Everyone tensed, unsure of what his next move would be.


    With a casual wave of his hand, Varyk stepped back, leaving the artifact exposed, unguarded. "Go ahead," he said, his voice dripping with malice and sarcasm. "Take it. It’s what you came for, isn’t it? All this... heroism for a shiny piece of history." He spread his arms wide, as if offering a gift. "Let’s see who gets to play savior first."


    The air buzzed with tension, but before anyone could react, two dozen of Varyk''s most elite mercenaries moved into formation, positioning themselves between the artifact and the teams. These soldiers were larger, their armor bulkier, and the glow of their weapons hinted at both magic and technomancy enhancements. They stood like a wall of muscle and steel, immovable, daring anyone to try.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Aria’s eyes flicked to the artifact, then to Andras. Her expression was cold, calculating, as she weighed her options. "You’re not seriously thinking of going for it?" she muttered.


    Andras didn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on Varyk, trying to see through the layers of deception. "Do you know him?" he asked, his voice low but incredulous.


    Aria’s jaw tightened, her eyes flashing with contempt. "Enough to know this is a trap. He wants us to fight over it."


    Varyk’s laughter cut through the air like a blade. "Oh, don’t stop now. You’re making this too easy," he taunted. "Technomancers, Arcanists... always so predictable. So desperate for control over things you don’t understand."


    Kaelen’s grip on his weapons tightened. This was more than a trap; it was a test, a game Varyk had set up from the start. They were being manipulated, and worse, they knew it.


    "Go on," Varyk continued, his voice oozing with satisfaction. "Make your move. Let’s see who really holds the power here. Or will you prove me right, and turn on each other like the pawns you are?"


    The mercenaries shifted slightly, their weapons gleaming in the dim light, ready for the inevitable. The tension between the Core and Aether teams grew palpable, as if Varyk’s words were already working to drive a wedge between them.


    Lyrian shot a quick glance at Kaelen, his expression uneasy. "This feels wrong. Really wrong."


    Kaelen nodded, his mind racing for a way out of the situation. They couldn’t let Varyk win, but taking the bait felt like walking into a minefield.


    Andras, sword still in hand, took a step forward, his voice calm but lethal. "We’re not playing your game, Varyk."


    Varyk''s grin widened. "Oh, but you already are."


    Aria nodded, understanding the urgency of the moment. Her voice was just as quiet, her tone steely. “Temporary truce, then. Let’s get the artifact. After that, we talk.”


    Andras grunted in agreement, the tension between them easing slightly as they prepared to face the mercenaries. The air shifted, a sense of resolve settling over the battlefield.


    Without another word, both teams moved in perfect synchronization, Core and Aether forces working together seamlessly. Nyra’s drones zipped overhead, releasing a barrage of fire on the mercenaries, forcing them to scatter and take cover. Leira, her flames burning bright, created a wall of fire to push the enemies back, while Skarath’s venomous spit clouded the air, disorienting several of the advancing mercenaries.


    The mercenaries responded with brutal efficiency, their energy shields flickering to life as they advanced, their weapons firing in a synchronized assault. The Core technomancers, led by Andras, countered with their own shields, deflecting the barrage of pulse rounds and returning fire with deadly precision.


    Kaelen was in the thick of it, his sword cutting down any mercenary that got too close, while his pistol delivered quick, precise shots to those further away. He could hear Lyrian barking orders to the team, coordinating their movements with the precision of a seasoned tactician.


    Beside him, Aria fought with a grace that was both beautiful and terrifying, her hands weaving arcs of energy that disrupted the mercenaries’ tech, causing their weapons to malfunction and their shields to flicker.


    But it was Morrigan who moved like a ghost, disappearing into the shadows and reappearing with deadly strikes, his clawed hands tearing through the enemies with the speed and precision of a predator. His ability to vanish and reappear had the mercenaries constantly on edge, unsure of where he would strike next.


    Skarath was no less deadly, using his towering frame to smash through the enemy lines, his venomous breath sowing chaos among the ranks. The mercenaries stumbled, blinded and disoriented, coughing and clutching at their throats as the miasma seeped into their lungs.


    “Damn it, what is this stuff?” one of the mercenaries rasped, trying to wipe the venom from his face, his voice thick with frustration.


    “Watch out for the lizard!” another shouted, panic edging his voice as he stumbled back, his vision swimming with hallucinogenic distortions.


    "Can’t see—what the hell did he hit us with?" came another voice, strained and angry, as the mercenaries tried to regroup.


    Skarath snarled, his predatory eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he slashed through the disoriented soldiers, his claws tearing into armor and flesh with brutal precision.


    “Stay back! Someone take him—" one mercenary tried to command, but his words were cut short as Skarath’s tail whipped out, knocking him to the ground with bone-shattering force.


    “Filthy snake,” one of the mercenaries spat, firing wildly at Skarath, only for the shot to go wide as the venom distorted his aim.


    Skarath hissed in response, his voice a low, guttural growl. “I’d worry more about keeping your limbs intact,” he said, slashing through another wave of mercenaries, their weapons useless in their disoriented state.


    “He’s too fast—can’t see a thing!” another mercenary cursed, wiping futilely at his eyes as Skarath advanced.


    Each step he took left chaos in his wake, their training and weapons rendered useless in the storm of venom and claws.


    “Hold the line!” Andras shouted, his pulse rifle letting off powerful blasts that tore through the mercenaries’ defenses. His voice was sharp, commanding, but Kaelen could hear the underlying strain. This battle wasn’t just about the artifact anymore. It was about survival.


    Kaelen could feel the weight of the battle pressing on him. Each strike he landed, every shot he fired, felt like it was pulling him deeper into something he didn’t fully understand.


    And then, through the chaos, Kaelen caught sight of the cat-like figure. Sleek and shadowed, he moved with a predator’s grace, slipping through the battlefield like smoke. Those piercing green eyes, glowing in the dim light, locked onto the artifact. Kaelen didn’t know who or what he was, but the intent was clear—he was going for the prize.


    For a split second, time seemed to slow. Kaelen’s eyes locked onto Morrigan, and before he could fully process the situation, he heard Andras’ voice roar through the battlefield, desperate and commanding.


    “Kaelen! Get the artifact! Now!”


    Kaelen’s heart skipped a beat. The command hit him like a punch to the gut. His body froze for the briefest of moments as a storm of thoughts raced through his mind. If he didn’t obey Andras, it would be more than just disobedience—it would be betrayal. And he couldn’t betray Lyrian again, not after everything he’d already kept from him. The secrets, the lies—Kaelen knew he’d already pushed his luck. One more misstep, and he’d lose the only real friend he had left.


    But going against Aria? That didn’t sit right either. Over time, they had become more than just two people on opposite sides—they had become allies. He respected her, and she respected him, and that was enough. There was no need for deeper ties, but the bond forged between them through hard-fought battles wasn’t something he could easily ignore.


    His gaze flicked to Aria in the distance, then back to Morrigan, whose hand was only inches from the artifact. Kaelen’s muscles tensed, the decision tearing at him.


    Before he could think any further, his body acted on instinct. He lunged forward, his heart pounding in his chest, eyes locked on the artifact. Morrigan’s hand was already reaching for it, and he knew he had only a split second.


    Kaelen lunged for the artifact just as the cat-like figure closed in. They both skidded to a halt, their hands brushing against the glowing surface at the same time. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to freeze. Then, with a low growl, Morrigan’s green eyes flicked to Kaelen’s, his voice a sharp whisper, laced with accusation.


    "So, you’re him," Morrigan said, his clawed fingers flexing against the artifact. "The infamous Kaelen they keep talking about."


    Kaelen’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t let go. "And you must be the ghost I didn’t know existed."


    Morrigan’s lips curled into a mocking smile. "Oh, I exist, alright. And I don’t take kindly to thieves."


    Before Kaelen could react, Morrigan’s claws lashed out, grazing his forearm with a swift strike. Kaelen hissed, instinctively tightening his grip on the artifact as pain flared in his arm.


    "Easy, furball," Lyrian said, eyes darting between the two. "We’re all on the same side here. Let’s not make this messier than it has to be."


    He paused, glancing at Morrigan’s claws, and added with a smirk, "And I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to tear my friend’s arm off."


    Morrigan opened his mouth to snap back, but before the words left his lips, the artifact beneath their hands shuddered violently. Both Kaelen and Morrigan jerked their hands back instinctively, eyes widening as the object began to float, pulsing with a strange, otherworldly energy.


    "What the hell..." Lyrian muttered, stepping back as the artifact hovered, spinning slowly in the air.


    Kaelen''s gaze followed the object as it started to drift, moving steadily toward the edge of the forest. A cold sense of dread settled in his chest. His eyes narrowed, straining to see through the shadows that clung to the treeline.


    Then it appeared—a shadow within shadows, a shape barely discernible in the dark, like a wisp of smoke caught between the trees. It stood motionless, an unseen presence that had lingered just out of reach, watching in silence. Cloaked in the veil of night, it seemed more an echo of something ancient than a figure of flesh and bone, its form blending into the very fabric of the forest.


    Kaelen didn’t think. His legs moved before his mind could catch up, propelling him forward with a raw desperation he couldn’t explain. The artifact, the battle, everything else faded into the background as he sprinted toward the silhouette in the shadows. The figure called to him—not with words, but with a presence, a pull that he couldn’t resist. He had to know. He had to see.


    "Kaelen, no!" Aria’s voice sliced through the chaos, sharp and urgent, but he didn’t stop. Not for a second.


    Aria took off after him, her feet pounding against the ground as she sprinted with all the strength she could muster. “Stop!”


    She wasn’t thinking anymore either. "You idiot! It’s a trap. It’s a trap!" Her voice was laced with fear, but he barely registered it, his eyes locked on the figure that remained still, as if waiting for him.


    "Kaelen!" she screamed again, but her words seemed lost in the wind.


    A group of mercenaries, appeared from the treeline, cutting her off. Their weapons raised, forming a wall between her and Kaelen, they moved swiftly to block her path. Desperation surged through her veins, and without even thinking, she thrust her hands forward. A powerful wave of air blasted from her palms, sending the soldiers flying in all directions, their bodies crashing into the trees like rag dolls. She didn’t stop to see the damage she had caused. Her focus was singular, sharp as a blade.


    Behind her, the battlefield descended into further chaos. Soldiers stumbled back, some groaning as they tried to stand, while others lay motionless on the ground, their armor pierced and blood pooling beneath them.


    But Kaelen didn’t hear any of it. He didn’t hear the desperate shouts of Lyrian calling his name, nor the clash of weapons and magic that raged behind him.


    He had one target. One focus.


    Kaelen pushed harder, his lungs burning as he sprinted through the undergrowth, branches tearing at his skin. The silhouette kept slipping away, always just out of reach. No matter how fast he ran, it stayed ahead, an elusive shadow vanishing into the night. His heart pounded, desperation and something primal pushing him forward, but the distance between them never closed.


    Then, just as he was certain it would escape him entirely, the figure appeared—sudden and impossibly close. Kaelen skidded to a halt, but before he could react, a cold hand wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. His breath hitched, both from the tight grip and the sheer presence of the figure. He struggled, but it was no use.


    Piercing, unearthly blue eyes locked onto his, burning with so much rage that froze him in place.


    "You’re coming with me."