The Tower Garden basked in the glow of the setting sun as Seraphina, Allira, and I walked toward the pastry shop. Both women wore the dresses they had picked out at the market, Seraphina, in a pale blue that matched the sky, her red hair tied back in a single braid. Allira wore a deep crimson dress that hugged her figure in a way that turned more than a few heads as we passed. The slit at her calf revealed just enough of her toned legs to be eye-catching. Her jet-black hair hung loose, brushing her lower back like a dark silk ribbon. I squeezed their hands and let out a contented sigh. I knew I was the luckiest man alive.

  “I’d say we’re equally blessed,” Seraphina teased with a grin.

  We found an empty table tucked under a flowering arbor, its wooden lattice intertwined with curling vines and light blossoms swaying gently in the late afternoon breeze. The garden café was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the subtle clinking of china. It smelled of honeyed pastries, sugared cream, and fresh herbs from the planters along the path.

  I guided Seraphina and Allira to their seats, choosing the spot between them. My katana, Emberline, rested against my inner thigh, always close but now only a quiet companion. The sunlight threaded gold through Seraphina’s braid and caught the gleam of Allira’s black hair as it spilled over one bare shoulder. Heads turned as we passed, and I didn’t blame them. My wives were stunning.

  The waitress arrived, her crisp apron tied tightly, her professional smile flickering slightly at the sight of us.

  “Tea for the table,” Seraphina said smoothly, her tone as poised as ever. “And your honey-dipped buns.”

  “Milk tea,” Allira added, softer but guarded. “And some of the almond squares.”

  I grinned at the waitress. “Bring me something reckless. Sweet enough to make me question my judgment.”

  She blinked, chuckled, and hurried off, skirts brushing past other tables. For a moment, I thought I might enjoy an afternoon without a crisis. That thought died as a familiar figure strode across the path.

  “Vaktar, come sit,” Seraphina called, pulling out a chair for him.

  Tea arrived steaming, and the table filled with fragrant warmth. Vaktar cleared his throat, notes in hand. “About that name,” he said lowly, “everything I found leads beyond the kingdom. But I haven’t pinned down where yet…”

  The city bells screamed before he could finish.

  The sound sliced through the garden, shattering the peace. At the same moment, a foul, acrid stench hit me, like sewer rot and burning hair. It clung to my throat, a scent I knew all too well. Demons.

  I wrinkled my nose, glancing around. “What was that?” I asked, half about the sound, half about the stink.

  Allira froze mid-breath, scanning the rooftops. “Emergency signals.”

  “You don’t smell that?” I pressed.

  “Smell what?” Seraphina asked, confusion flickering across her face. Marlena shook her head, oblivious. The reek grew stronger to me, settling heavy in my lungs, and my stomach clenched.

  Seraphina’s voice faltered. “What do we do?”

  Allira bit her lip, eyes darting. “Whatever it is, I’m not dressed for it. The Guild building is the safest bet.”

  I stood up, sliding Emberline into my belt. The warmth of the café and the scent of tea had already faded, torn away. “I’ll protect you,” I murmured, holding their hands.

  Vaktar’s jaw was set. “I’ll lead.”

  We hurried out as piercing screeches tore through the air, raw and inhuman, ripping across the sky. Dark shapes darted between the rooftops. I looked up. Wyverns.

  Their wings darkened the sky like storm clouds, and their fiery breath scorched buildings. Roofs cracked under the flames. Archers hurried to respond, arrows whistling into the sky. Several wyverns tumbled from above, carcasses crashing through streets and homes in showers of sparks and dust.

  The city shifted from tea and blossoms to fire and ruin in the blink of an eye.

  We hurried toward the Guildhouse, feet hammering the cobblestones. A wyvern slammed down at the next intersection, its talons cracking stone. From its back, a figure leapt a massive warrior, if you could even call it that. With a guttural roar, it swung a two-handed sword, cleaving through fleeing citizens as if they were made of straw.

  I looked at my wives, then to the garden beyond, where more wyverns dropped in clusters. I turned to Vaktar and shouted over the shrieks of the reptiles, “Watch them. I’ll be back.”

  Allira’s answer was immediate. “Go. We’ll be safe here.”

  Seraphina reached for me, her face pale, but Allira pulled her back before I could falter. I unsheathed Emberline, its steel whispering free, and sprinted toward the chaos.

  The intersection was nearly empty now except for the broken. Bodies lay scattered, twisted like discarded dolls, blood pooling across the cobblestones. Windows had been shattered, smoke curling out, the stink of burned timber mixing with something fouler.

  That stench hit me like a hammer. Acrid rot, iron and bile, the stink of a battlefield left to fester in the sun. My stomach lurched. No one else seemed to notice it, but I knew. Demons.

  And then I saw it. The thing towered over the corpses it had created. Its skin was cracked and dried, splitting in places to reveal pulsing veins that glowed faintly red beneath. Horns curled from its skull like twisted iron hooks. Its maw dripped with saliva as thick as tar, hissing as it struck the cobblestones. In its massive hands, it gripped a jagged sword, the metal alive with a sickly red glow that pulsed like an open wound.

  I swallowed, tightening my grip on Emberline. I hadn’t come here to fight, only to stall it, to turn it away and run. Just buy time. The demon’s head tilted when it saw me, eyes glowing with a cruel intelligence. It smiled or what passed for a smile, jagged teeth flecked with gore.

  “You’ll be a special one,” it rasped. Its voice was broken stone grinding through wet gravel. “The others don’t ever see our true form.”

  I forced myself forward, each step heavier than the last. “You don’t belong here.”

  It roared, a sound that shook glass from the shattered frames, and charged.

  I shifted, ready to sidestep, to make it overextend so I could run past. But the demon moved with shocking speed. Its massive blade hit the street with a crash, cutting off my path, sparks and cobblestones exploding in front of me.

  The thing loomed, blocking every avenue of escape, its reek suffocating.

  I clenched Emberline with both hands. “Fine,” I muttered quietly. “Then I guess we do this your way.” The demon’s eyes locked onto mine, smoldering, smart, cruel. It tilted its head slightly and grinned.

  “You’re brave,” it rasped. Its voice sounded like broken stone and wet gravel. Its sword came down like a guillotine. I sidestepped just as it struck, the shockwave from its impact knocking bricks loose from nearby walls. Emberline flashed in response, and I slashed across its side. Sparks and black ichor sprayed out.

  The demon staggered, but not from pain. It looked down at the gash in its flesh and then at the crack spider-webbing across the edge of its blade where Emberline had struck. I saw its confusion and then rage.

  I shifted left. It swung again, the massive sword whistling through the air. I ducked under, rolled, and came up behind it to slash again. Emberline sparked violently against its weapon as it parried, and more cracks spread across the demon’s sword.

  Emberline was eating it.

  The enchanted steel despised corruption, and this demon reeked of it. I pivoted back, slashed again, steel met demonic alloy, and split it further. A chunk of the demon’s sword flaked off with a sizzle, vanishing into red-hot shards. The demon screamed and kicked at me. Its foot caught my ribs and sent me flying into a fruit cart. Wood shattered. Pain bloomed in my side.

  –120 HP [Remaining: 500 of 620]

  I groaned, coughed, and managed to stand up. I tried to shake off this injury, but my ribs objected loudly. I can hear the creature laugh as it moves toward me. It was swinging wildly now, less skilled, more beast. I dodged one blow, just barely deflecting the next.

  “Do you have anyone back home that I can kill after this?” I asked the demon. “I’ll make a special trip just for you.” The demon tried to speed up its attacks, but each strike against Emberline chipped away more of the demon’s weapon. Emberline was glowing now brighter, hotter, almost singing in my grip.

  I feinted a step to the right, then darted left, slicing Emberline fiercely across the demon’s forearm. It cut through the beast’s arm and completely shattered its blade. The blade exploded into a burst of red shards.

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

  It roared, reaching for me barehanded with its remaining hand, its claws raking the air.

  Too slow. I slipped inside its reach and drove Emberline up into its gut, two hands on the hilt. The blade sank deep. I twisted, heard flesh tear. Black ichor poured from the wound, smoking on the ground. The demon stumbled. I yanked the blade free and spun, slashing across its throat. Emberline cut clean, effortlessly. Black ichor splashed me as I pulled the sword from the creature.

  “Gods, this stinks.” I tried to wipe some of the bits of demon flesh from my clothes. The beast fell to its knees, gurgling, then collapsed face down in the street.

  [Bonus XP – Elite Kill]

  [913 XP Sword Fighting Awarded]

  [DING]

  [Level Up - Sword Fighting – Level 26]

  898 XP Until Next Level

  I stood over the corpse, panting. Emberline hummed with residual heat, the blood along its edge evaporating like steam. I looked up. More wyverns circled in the distance, smoke rising from rooftops, screams echoing through alleyways. I turned and ran back to the others.

  My ribs burned like embers, but I forced a grin as I limped back to Seraphina and Allira. Seraphina flung herself at me, then smacked me playfully across the chest. “That was stupid! And you stink!”

  I felt the impact, chuckled through the pain. “Agreed. But someone had to do it.”

  Above us, screeches spiked, followed by thunderous flaps. The direct route to the Guild was teeming with wyverns and their riders. We needed another plan.

  Vaktar pointed toward the Black Tower. “We circle around the other side, back road. It skirts behind the Guild.”

  I nodded, steadying myself, though bile burned at the back of my throat. The reek was everywhere, a rancid, sewer-stench laced with rot and burning hair. It clung to the air like oil, coating my tongue, crawling into my lungs. Every step was a fight to keep from gagging. We had a fight approaching. I could smell it.

  Vaktar moved quickly at the front, his new blade unsheathed, eyes sharp as he scanned for threats. I stayed close behind, partly to guard the rear and partly because my knees were shaky from the nausea. The two women pressed on, their dresses snagging on broken wood and debris, but they never faltered.

  “Can’t you smell that?” I muttered, forcing air through my teeth.

  Allira glanced back, confusion flashing in her eyes. “Smell what?”

  I swallowed hard. The stench only grew worse, thick and foul, as if the demons themselves were already breathing down my neck. Another wyvern screeched overhead, its wings cleaving the smoke-filled sky as riders plummeted like knives toward the street. Seraphina grabbed Allira’s arm, pulling her forward through the chaos. We sprinted, dodging fallen debris and trying to keep our footing on blood-slick cobblestones. The air reeked of sulfur and burning flesh. Behind us, screams pierced through the ash-laden air.

  “There!” Vaktar pointed to a narrow alcove in the tower’s black wall, shadowed and sunken, like a wound in the stone. “We can get some shelter over there.”

  We made for it running blind through the rising panic. Then Seraphina’s foot caught on a splintered plank. She hit the ground hard, breath knocked from her lungs.

  “Seraphina!” I dropped beside her as a shadow passed overhead, massive and winged. A wyvern’s shriek tore through the air as its claws scraped stone, narrowly missing our heads. I threw myself over her, shielding her body with mine as the beast roared past, wind and heat smacking our backs.

  She gasped, “I’m okay, go!”

  “No.” I hauled her to her feet, heart hammering in my chest. “Not without you.”

  We slipped together into the alcove, pushing our way into the darkness beneath the tower’s shadow. The others stayed close behind, Vaktar muttering a curse under his breath.

  Another wyvern soared through the air, wings flaring, smoke curling from its nostrils as it prepared for another dive. It was hunting. It knew we were here. I pressed against the back of the alcove, stone cold and unyielding.

  Then the words returned to my mind, sharp this time, persistent: Class is the key. Why now? What Class? The tower hasn’t opened for centuries. This tower was for Engineers. Am I the key? It can’t be that simple.

  I looked down at my hand, then back at the wall. It wasn’t just stone; it felt like something else. Waiting. I pressed my palm flat against it.

  Click.

  A mechanical sound echoed through the alcove, deep and ancient. The wall pulsed once beneath my hand.

  “What was that?” Seraphina whispered, her voice shaking.

  “A door,” Vaktar said. “It’s opening.”

  From the street, we heard claws scraping on stone. A guttural roar echoed. The smell of burning rotted meat filled the air.

  “We have to go,” I said. “Now.”

  We rushed into the growing darkness as the wall collapsed behind us. Just as we crossed the threshold, the wyverns swooped down, their shrieks echoing like war horns. One of them crashed into the stone where we had just been. The door slammed shut with a deafening boom.

  And then silence.

  The world outside vanished. No fire. No wings. No screams. Only darkness.

  It wasn’t quiet. It was dead silent. The air pressed heavily on us, suffocating in its way. The stench of rot and sewage that had been clawing at my senses was suddenly gone, leaving me lightheaded with relief and more unsettled because of it. My lungs finally filled cleanly, but the lack of that foul warning made my skin crawl.

  The complete silence pressed against my skull like a scream just out of reach. I felt Seraphina’s hand tighten in mine. Allira moved closer. Even Vaktar was breathing heavily, his knuckles white around his grip. We had escaped the nightmare outside, but the silence told me this place carried its own.

  “Is everyone okay?” I called softly into the darkness.

  “Here,” Seraphina responded, bumping into my side.

  “Oh, sorry!” That was Allira, stumbling next.

  I grabbed both of their hands and squeezed. “Good. Vaktar?”

  I got a brutal hit on my head when someone bumped into me.

  “Found you,” he muttered.

  I rubbed my forehead, chuckling. “At least now we know where everyone is.”

  And then the air shifted. A faint glow began to pulse from above, not from a flame or torch, but from the ceiling itself. The light spread slowly, creeping across the vaulted chamber like sunrise breaking through storm clouds.

  Massive archways stretched high overhead, supported by fluted columns lining the walls. The floor was smooth grey stone, polished so well it reflected the growing light like glass. It was cold underfoot, but there was no stale air or dust. Instead, the faint scent of honeyed bread drifted through the room. Dozens of doorways lined the perimeter, but nothing else. No furniture. No markings. Just waiting. Then, a voice echoed, clear and crisp.

  “Welcome, Engineer.”

  We froze.

  “What the hell?” Allira whispered.

  I called out into the room. “Hello? Is someone there?”

  The voice replied, mildly exasperated, “Yes. I’ll be there in a bit. These stairs are a killer on my ankles.”

  Seraphina chuckled. “This place is crazy.”

  A doorway across the chamber pulsed with soft blue light. From it, a figure emerged, tall and strikingly graceful, with warm bronze skin that shimmered faintly under the tower’s glow. Her body moved like a machine coming back to life after years of stillness: deliberate, smooth, almost unfamiliar to itself. Metallic lines traced subtle patterns across her arms and throat, like veins of light etched into flesh. She stopped a few feet from me, her gaze locking onto mine, unreadable. Her head tilted slightly, curious yet calm. She looked human but only at a glance. And I had no idea what she truly was.

  “Engineer,” she said again. “I welcome you.”

  Allira stepped forward. “What are you?”

  The woman didn’t answer. Her gaze stayed locked on me, unmoving.

  Vaktar circled behind her cautiously. “Nothing obvious back here,” he said, shrugging.

  I confronted her. “Who are you?”

  “I am the Tower’s informational unit.”

  Seraphina then asked, “Why are you here?”

  Again, silent until I echoed the question. “Why are you here?”

  She answered immediately. “I am waiting for the next engineer to accept this tower.”

  My pulse quickened. “How?”

  “How to accept this Tower? There is a test. Three questions. Answer correctly, and the tower’s control is yours.”

  “And if I fail?”

  “You will be removed, by force, if necessary. The tower will await the next.”

  “Can we have a moment?”

  She bowed slightly and remained still. I gathered Seraphina, Allira, and Vaktar off to the side.

  “This feels big,” I said.

  Vaktar nodded. “Whatever this place is, no one’s been here for centuries. If it’s waking up now, it might be for a reason.”

  Allira added, “If this place has power, maybe it could help with the city. The demons. The war.”

  I looked at Seraphina, who was unusually quiet. She met my gaze. “If you pass what, then? Do we live here? Are we safe? Or does it just put a bigger target on your back?” Valid questions.

  I turned back to the woman. “What happens if I pass your test? Can I leave?”

  She tilted her head. “Of course. Passing the test grants you mastery of the tower. You may come and go at will. No one will stop you.”

  I looked at the others, then turned to her. “Then yes. But first, why did the tower wake before I ever stepped inside?”

  She met my gaze, calm and steady. “Because we knew. The tower is tied to the legacy of the engineers. It senses when one of its own walks the world again within its region.”

  I frowned. “You mean it’s been waiting for me?”

  “It has been waiting for any of you,” she said. “For generations, we waited. The tower started to wake when we felt a change coming.”

  “Because I’m an engineer?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Not until you opened the door did we know it was you.”

  I looked down, squeezed both Seraphina’s and Allira’s hands, then looked back up. “All right then. Let’s do this.”

  She turned. Three glowing blue panels appeared in the air before me.

  “These are master arcane engineering formulas. They represent a selection that the previous masters wanted the next to know,” the informational unit said. “Identify each and their purpose.”

  The others leaned in. Allira frowned, then squinted. Seraphina tilted her head. Vaktar just grunted. To them, it was as unintelligible as a foreign language.

  But me? I smiled. It felt like standing back at the university. Or the lab. Or the lecture hall, chalk in one hand and a classroom of brilliant, eager students staring up at me. I looked at the first formula and something inside me snapped into place, like flipping on a light in a familiar room.

  “That’s Chaos Theory,” I said. “It’s about how small changes can cause massive, unpredictable results. Like a single gust of wind shifting a storm, or one choice in battle changing the outcome of a war.”

  Seraphina tilted her head, clearly trying to follow, but already her brows were creased. “Wait, what does wind have to do with war?”

  “Think of this in this way, my sweet,” I said. “If you and I are standing on a mountainside, and I take a pebble and drop it, the pebble hits a larger rock, and that rock hits two other rocks, then those rocks hit two more. Then that pebble causes a landslide. For war, think of a battle. In that battle, do you want to move your knights to the left flank or the right? What is the outcome many, many moves down if you choose either of those two moves? This theory works with items of that scale.”

  I smiled and stepped forward. The second formula gently glowed in the air as the first panel vanished from sight.

  “This is called Euler’s Number. It appears whenever something increases or decreases money-earning interest, populations grow, and even how quickly spells or diseases spread.”

  Allira whispered under her breath, “That sounds made up.” But she was watching me closely as if she were trying to memorize every word.

  “It does, and I’ve met many people who searched for these solutions. Some fundamental numbers describe the universe around us, and Euler’s number is just one of them. You know, Allira, there’s even a special number found in art and architecture, and it describes the spiral arrangement of leaves.”

  The third screen pulsed gently, reflecting what had happened to the first.

  “Navier-Stokes Equations,” I said, my voice almost reverent. “They explain how fluids move, water, air, even blood. It’s how we design pipes, engines, even flying machines.”

  Behind me, Vaktar muttered, “You just described air, blood, war, and money in the same breath.”

  I gave him a shrug, and all I could think of was Isaac Asimov’s quote with a slight twist: “Magic can amuse and fascinate us all, but it is engineering that changes the world.”

  They didn’t understand the math. That was obvious. But they noticed something else, something in my expression, maybe. The way my voice shifted, the way I stood a little taller, as if I was back in front of a lecture hall instead of a glowing tower in another world.

  Seraphina moved closer, watching me as if I were suddenly casting magic. “You love this, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “I do. This is what I was doing before coming here and seeing your smile the first time.”

  Then the last of the blue screens disappeared. The woman’s eyes glowed blue, and she bowed.

  “Welcome, Master,” she said. “We have waited many years for your arrival.”