Joel first made sure there was no danger outside the room. The silence in the hallways was eerie, barely broken by the attacks on the castle barrier. Once he was convinced no one was approaching, he returned to Reed's side. The man was still unconscious, writhing in his own sweat and blood.

  He improvised a tourniquet, squeezing it tightly to stop the bleeding. He didn't do it out of compassion, but because it was still useful to keep him alive; the cultists had many questions to ask him. Then, without another glance, Joel walked over to the desk and began searching through the drawers until he found a pen and paper.

  With methodical calm, he sat down and began to copy the star map he had just discovered into the green book. The silence that reigned in the room was strange, almost unreal, after so much fighting. Still, he remained alert, especially with his ears, to detect anyone approaching the room.

  The minutes passed, and Joel sank into the concentration of his drawing. He drew in detail each star, each symbol, each incomprehensible note. His hands moved quickly but firmly, as if he feared that at any moment someone would come to snatch what he had found.

  And then he felt it: footsteps. He tensed immediately, stuffed the copy of the map into an inside pocket of his robes, and stood up, putting himself on guard. It was then that he realized that the attacks on the castle barrier had ceased.

  The door opened slowly. Joel expected to find a surviving guard, or perhaps one of his companions. But it was Leo, the leader of the Cult of Midnight, who entered the room.

  "So you were here," Leo said, his voice deep, almost solemn.

  "You took a long time," Joel said, tossing Leo the book of maps. "I took the trouble to look up what you wanted... the last few pages."

  Leo caught the tome effortlessly, immediately flipping through the last few pages. His lips curved into a cold smile when he found the location of the planet Gaea. "Excellent. This saves us quite a bit of time."

  Then he looked up at Joel, his eyes reflecting both satisfaction and reproach. "It wasn't easy getting in, after you failed to open the barrier."

  Joel turned his head from side to side, as if he'd expected that accusation. "The plan was full of holes. It only took one unexpected event to force me to improvise."

  Leo nodded slowly, though his expression remained hard. "By the way, on the first floor we found the body of someone who shouldn't have been here. Did you kill him?"

  Joel raised an eyebrow. "Was it someone important?"

  Leo studied him silently for a few seconds, as if trying to find a lie. "I assume it was you," he said finally. "It was Sigmund Musall, better known as 'The Turret.' A powerful level-six general… renowned for his defensive techniques and his staff, whose power allowed him to wound higher-level mages more than once… He claimed it was a gift from the Emperor."

  For the first time in that conversation, Joel couldn't help but show his surprise. His eyes widened for a moment. "No wonder it took me so long to kill him…"

  A thick silence filled the room. Reed, still on the floor, was breathing heavily, struggling to survive in his unconsciousness. Outside, the distant echo of a collapsing wall was the only thing that broke the stillness.

  "Apparently, you're quite an amazing warrior, by any standards," Leo said, his voice calm but with a strange gleam in his eyes. "And I'd love to talk with you about what happened here while you were trapped, especially about the peculiar weapons your fellow mages told me about… But I'm afraid we won't have the time, as someone called for reinforcements."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Joel tensed instantly. "What do you mean?"

  “That level-seven mage, the one who’s injured.” Leo looked down. “He locked himself inside an underground bunker and sent out a distress call.”

  Joel frowned. “Wasn’t that planned? Wasn’t that precisely the reason for the attacks across the region?”

  Leo nodded slowly. “Indeed, that was the plan. But we were able to intercept part of the distress call… and it turns out that guy has ties to the Frontier Oculus.”

  Joel’s face paled at the name. His breath caught for a second before a surge of adrenaline surged through him. “What the hell?!” His voice was a growl between disbelief and rage. “What’s the danger level?”

  Leo, for the first time in this conversation, lowered his tone. His expression became serious, almost resigned. “The risk is quite high.”

  He was silent for a couple of seconds, then added coldly, "And I'm afraid Simon won't be able to keep his promise to send you back with the Dawn."

  Joel looked at him with even more surprise. "Explain yourself."

  "The Oculus," Leo said, weighing each word, "has among its ranks mages capable of tracking the destination of portals just from the residue of magic in the air. They can do this for a couple of days from their creation, long enough to find our support bases, jeopardizing our entire infrastructure. So we can't use what we had prepared to escape..."

  Joel clenched his jaw, understanding what that meant.

  Leo took a step forward, his gaze boring into Joel's. "We're going to have to split up... and resort to exile protocol. Each one for himself."

  As rarely happens, Joel's mind went blank for a moment. Then he began to recall the years he'd spent escaping from the authorities and hiding outside of society. Having to fight for his life against a world that seemed to refuse to let him rest.

  Joel erupted in a roar, his fist slamming down on the desk with such force that the wood splintered, crumbling to pieces under the impact. "I'm tired of running!" His voice trembled between rage and despair. "I've been escaping these damn empires for years!"

  Leo didn't even blink. He simply nodded, as if he'd expected that reaction. "It's the only way to survive," he said in a firm tone, without a trace of doubt. "I'm going to open a portal outside of this region. Once you pass through, try to get as far away as possible and blend in with the population. At your level, it shouldn't be a problem."

  Joel took a deep breath, his teeth clenched until his jaws ached. His anger slowly subsided, transforming into a bitter ice that kept him standing. "Drop me off near the Duchy of Bresmitz," he finally said, with forced calm. "But first, I need a favor from you. Something that shouldn't cost you too much."

  "Go ahead, but it must be quick," Leo replied, as he extracted a staff from his robes: the same one that had belonged to Sigmund, and unceremoniously handed it to him. "By the way... this belongs to you."

  Joel took it, surprised. The weapon, which in Sigmund's hands had been as imposing as a war lance, now lay reduced, thin, and almost discreet, like an easy-to-carry version. Without hesitation, he tucked it under his tunic.

  Looking up, his eyes met Leo's, cold and determined. "The favor I need is…"

  ____________________________________

  When he finally passed through the portal, Joel emerged at the foot of a massive tree, hidden among thick bushes on the outskirts of a walled city. The air smelled of damp grass and resin, and sunlight still filtered through the dense foliage.

  He didn't look well at all. Dried blood stained his clothes in dark patches, and every muscle in his body screamed with accumulated exertion. With a raspy gesture, he removed his cloak and wrapped the shield in it along with some of the magic books he had managed to snatch from Reed's office; his loot was heavy, but too valuable to abandon.

  Raising his gaze to the sky, he tried to orient himself with the sun and set a course west. His steps were quick, almost desperate, but at the same time measured: he sought to move as quickly as possible without leaving any traces behind him. He rejected every visible road, skirted distant villages, and forced himself to remain unnoticed, like a shadow among the trees.

  The hours bled by in silence until the exhaustion became unbearable. His body, battered by the flight and the fighting, finally betrayed him. Aware that he couldn't continue like this, he climbed a high branch of a tree and there improvised a shelter, high enough to keep watch and, at least, feel out of the immediate reach of human predators who might track him.

  There, amid the rustling of leaves and the distant echo of a crow, Joel finally allowed his breathing to slow down. But although his body was asking him to surrender, his mind remained alert.

  Leaning against the bark, Joel closed his eyes and began to search his memories, looking for something very specific. For a long time, he concentrated on that thought, until suddenly, he stretched out his hands. And after a few moments, he felt something heavy appear on his palms.

  When he opened his eyes, he found a can of cola, shiny and incongruous in the middle of the forest. His fingers ran over it, as if afraid it would vanish, and without further thought, he opened it and brought it to his lips. He drank the whole thing in one go, letting the sweet, fizzy effervescence burn his throat.

  When he finished, he crushed the can against his head with an automatic, almost reflexive gesture. Only then did he stop to think about what he had done, surprised by the naturalness of the act. The confusion barely lasted a moment, as he was so tired that sleep forced him to close his eyes for just a moment... a moment that lasted longer than he expected.