Kaius ran through the wide-open halls of the imperial ruin, bay windows flashing past to reveal workstations and creations of unknown artifice alike.

  Backtracking as they were, their path was littered with the detritus of their previous battles — twisted remnants of turrets hung from the ceiling while the shattered bodies of worker drones scattered the hall.

  He revelled in the feeling of his strength returning after the beating he had received in the surprise fight with the Centurions. His health had finally recovered from the damage caused by the heat beam and the ejection of raw Arcane energy.

  Greater Regeneration truly was a blessing. Its lesser variant had been one of his most useful skills, keeping him breathing and fighting long past when most others would have expired — and its evolution felt even more potent than he had anticipated.

  Despite having a chunk of his lungs and lower ribs removed and his insides scorched black, it had taken bare minutes for him to heal entirely. The problem, of course, was that the fight had drained almost half of both his mana and health pools. There was little to be done about that.

  He had already drunk one of their stronger regeneration potions and didn’t want to consume more, in case potion toxicity became an issue later. He hadn’t let Ianmus heal him beyond the first spell either — far better that the mage reserve his mana for combat. He could always be healed more later.

  Up ahead, their pathways split — one side leading right, with clear words emblazoned on the smooth stone walls: D4.

  Hopefully, it would prove to be the safe haven it suggested. They didn’t need long — just an hour or so to recover lost resources, and more importantly, so he could inscribe more spells. The lack of worker drones made him hopeful.

  “There it is. Let’s keep going,” he said, taking the corner with his team.

  Another turn, and the hall opened up through wide double doors, with thick steel barricades recessed into the entrance edges. Above them, D4 was emblazoned in letters almost as tall as he was.

  It opened into a wide space — a mezzanine, he realised in a snap, similar to the one they had entered earlier. It looked like some sort of recreation centre, almost a cross between the training halls he was used to at the Guild and a common room or dining hall.

  Below, a third of the space was set up with an open court, one edge lined with training dummies. Across from it, rows of tables and chairs sat before a reception desk, while directly below him lay a sea of couches and chairs—though the leather and wool stuffing had long since rotted away, leaving only skeletal wood and metal frames.

  They weren’t alone. A handful of worker drones picked their way through the wreckage below, while nearly a dozen turrets dotted the ceiling above.

  Kaius made a gut decision. This place was too open, and the door behind them far too large. They needed a choke point — something they could defend easily if needed. At least it seemed mostly deserted. It should be simple to clear out, and hopefully they would find something more defensible further inside the redoubt.

  In a handful of moments, Kaius snapped into motion alongside his team as they moved to deal with the threats.

  “Keep them safe. I’ll deal with the drones,” Kaius said, pushing his intent to Porkchop as he vaulted over the mezzanine barricade.

  Shots rang out behind him as his backline dismantled the ceiling turrets. He drew his blade, hitting the ground a half-dozen strides below with a heavy thump.

  He dashed toward the nearest of four drones. Each noticed him instantly, six tool-tip arms snapping into offensive positions as they swarmed over the wreckage of a long-decayed bunker, insectile limbs pecking through debris with ease.

  Kaius was calm. The automata might have the precision and speed of machined artefacts, but they were predictable. Their combat style was rote — complex, but rigid. Now that he knew where their cores were, it was easy to take them down.

  Kicking off, Kaius met the first one head-on, slipping past a flurry of stabs to drive his blade straight into its core. He didn’t stop moving. Hearing the ding in his mind, he spun between the rest, bringing them down as swiftly as he could.

  “Kaius!” Ianmus called.

  Turning, Kaius saw the mage descending a set of stairs connecting the mezzanine to the floor. Ianmus pointed — a thin stream of quickly woven magic traced a line of light from his fingertip to a spot on the wall just behind Kaius.

  A smaller door was tucked into an alcove at the rear of the room. Others were scattered around, but they were sealed shut, and this one opened into a hall.

  It branched and wove deep, lined with a few turrets but no visible drones.

  If a Centurion found them here, it would struggle to manoeuvre in such tight confines.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Perfect.

  “Good idea,” he called back, dashing forward ahead of his team.

  Falling into formation, they charged across the entrance hall and into the hallway beyond. Fixed bolt throwers swivelled to meet their charge. Kaius and Porkchop moved as a seamless whole. Winds howled tearing at the bolts, while his blade slashed two more out of the air.

  Porkchop’s armour absorbed the rest.

  Bare moments later, a warbling siren pierced Kaius’s ears. His shock at the sudden noise only grew as a tide of drones spilled into the mezzanine from the outer hall above.

  “We need a Halo, now!” he shouted.

  Ianmus nodded, grasping his staff with both hands at the hallway’s entrance. The burning keyseal atop it pulsed once.

  A great deluge of mana exploded outward, condensing into a tightly packed sphere of solar energy that flew into the tide. A flash of searing light followed.

  Gods, the potency of it was exhilarating.

  “Further in!” Kaius called, tearing his eyes from the sight. “We can find a choke point — rotate through defenders, give each other a chance to rest. It’s only drones!”

  Yet as they raced deeper, more automata poured from side rooms. Their advance slowed.

  Porkchop took the lead, twisting metal and smashing plating as he crushed all in his path. Kaius moved as his shadow, blade flashing through the air as he pierced core after core, leaving a wake of wreckage behind.

  Through open doorways, he glimpsed dorms — rows of bunks, metal skeletons, and long-fallen corpses with holes in their foreheads. Ceiling turrets had executed them in their sleep. Kaius ignored them. The rooms were too shallow to defend from and not worth the time.

  There was a surge of mana behind him as Ianmus released another blast — a free-cast ray this time. It scoured the hall, annihilating over a dozen worker drones spilling after them.

  “We need to find somewhere now, Kaius!” Kenva shouted.

  He nodded. Turning a corner, he spotted a room that looked perfect — a barracks kitchen, or a storeroom. Maybe even a workshop, it looked like there were tools lining the far wall. Regardless, it was heavily barricaded, and its door had been left ajar. With no drones ahead, it would be easy to fortify.

  “There!” he said.

  They ran in. Grabbing a metal rolling bench, he threw it lengthwise across the door. It would suffice — a waist-high barricade to slow any automata trying to breach their impromptu sanctuary.

  “We make a stand,” Kaius said. “Kenva with me, Ianmus with Porkchop. We’ll rotate. I’ll fight first. My blade will be enough for these creatures — we can cycle out once my mana’s recovered and I can inscribe. Once we’re fresh, we push for the mainframe.”

  His team nodded, faces set and grim.

  Kaius took position behind the barricade and breathed. He’d have to avoid spells — hell, avoid using mana altogether. Pure bladework, with the occasional assist from Bladerite and Mercurial Reversal.

  With Kenva’s ranged support, he should be just fine.

  Yet unease crept in. Their pursuers never arrived. They had been right on their tail — where in the hells had they gone?

  His answer came in the warbling scream of another alarm, followed by a booming, tinny voice echoing through the room.

  “Alert. Intruders detected. Redoubt D-4. Sealing of Redoubt in progress. Response group barracks activating.”

  Kaius’s eyes widened. “Gods’ scorn!”

  A thick slab of steel creaked as it lowered down from the archway leading out of the barracks. For a moment, he felt only doom. Then it shuddered — whether from age or decay, the enchantment had faltered.

  They had time!

  “We have to move!” he cried, dashing forward.

  His team followed, streaming into the outer hall.

  “Seems like the mainframe’s our best bet after all,” Porkchop said.

  Kaius grunted. Even so, it would be a hard slog—a grind that would wear them down.

  “Get your potions ready,” he said. “We’re going to need them.”

  “Don’t worry,” Porkchop replied as they raced back the way they’d come. “We’ll buy you some time in the main hallway so you can inscribe your spells.”

  Before Kaius could answer, they turned the corner — and ran straight into an army. Dozens of worker drones filled the corridor leading to the redoubt’s open entrance, more spilling in behind them. A massive blast door was descending ahead, threatening to trap them inside.

  Kaius didn’t think. He moved.

  Dashing to the nearest drone, he leaned on Mercurial Reversal to deflect a stab before driving his sword through the automata. Power thrummed through his glyphs, feeding into his next spell. Seeing the Centurion and the teeming swarm behind it, he knew what he had to do.

  Starfall tore from his grasp. A void opened in the ceiling above the recreation hall, meteorites screaming down, concussive booms shaking the floor as metal artifice was slagged and blown apart.

  “Everything we have!” he roared.

  His team reacted instantly. Kenva fired a Howl of the North Wind, the projectile scouring deep into the Centurion’s chest, nearly striking its core. Ianmus unleashed the last of the mana bound in his key seal—his final halo soaring over the drones blocking their path.

  As the Centurion’s shield flickered to life, Ianmus’s spell struck true — slagging its physical defences and destroying a dozen drones in a molten blast.

  Kaius charged behind Porkchop as his brother broke their way through. But to his horror, it wasn’t enough. There was simply too much metal, too many bodies between them and freedom. The door descended as worker drones hurled themselves at them in suicidal waves, slowing their advance.

  Kaius could only watch as the thick blast door rolled down, an impassive Centurion staring back as it was slowly hidden by the descent.

  “Gods’ rotten roots,” Kaius swore.

  They were trapped.

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