The silence of the dawn in the Bastion was not broken slowly, but torn to shreds by the swelling, brass blare of a war trumpet. The sound was so raw and unexpected that it made the cold morning air in the stone corridors literally vibrate. Dust particles danced nervously in the few shafts of sunlight breaking through the narrow windows.
"STAND READY!"
King Solomon’s voice echoed through the vaults, deep and unyielding, as if he were commanding the very foundations of the castle itself. He stood bolt upright in the center of the main hall, his royal mantle stretched tight across his broad shoulders, his golden breastplate gleaming in the early light.
The heavy oak doors swung open with a loud bang. Aurelius and Jane rushed in first. Their clothes were still crooked here and there, and their sleep-crusted eyes blinked painfully against the bright daylight streaming through the great dome. Right on their heels followed Apollo, Beat, and Lyn. Beat tried to pull his boots on properly as he ran, while Lyn clutched her sketchbook tightly against her chest, looking as though she had been designing even in her sleep.
A few seconds later, Nicola strolled into the hall with his usual, almost infuriating composure. Not a trace of haste, not a shred of panic. His fingers tapped a rhythmic, hypnotizing beat against his thigh as he observed the surrounding chaos with an amused glint in his eyes. Last of all, Silarias and Nyx stumbled inside. Their hair was a wild, tangled mess, the blankets still seemed practically glued to them, and their steps were heavy with deep, unfinished sleep. They leaned half against each other just to stay upright.
Solomon scanned the line struggling to form before him. His look was stern, the gaze of a general inspecting his troops, but as he took in the sleepy faces, something softened in his eyes. He let out a sigh, a deep, tired, yet clearly amused sound that rolled through the space.
"Uh, hmmm, everyone?" He raised an eyebrow and pointedly stared at the two blaringly empty spots right in the middle of the formation.
Silarias and Nyx reacted on pure instinct. They caught each other’s eye, exchanging a mischievous, almost lightning-fast smirk. Fatigue was forgotten in a single breath as playful energy took hold of them. Without a word, they turned in unison and bolted down the corridor, heading straight for Ren and Miki’s room.
A loud commotion echoed from the distance, followed by the sound of doors slamming open and surprised yells. A few moments later, Silarias and Nyx reappeared, literally dragging the pair out of bed. Sheets and blankets trailed half across the floor behind them. Without an ounce of mercy, they hauled the bewildered duo upright and shoved them into the line.
Ren and Miki, their eyes still glued shut, swayed dangerously as if they might collapse at any second. In their sleep-drunk state, they subconsciously leaned on each other for support. Their heads rested against each other’s shoulders with a soft
plop
, their arms intertwined, clinging together in a desperate, instinctive grip to keep from crashing to the hard floor.
Solomon couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. His eyes sparkled with pure enjoyment as he took in the comical, half-asleep lineup. "Alright, this is new," he remarked, straightening his mantle. "Well, everyone is together. Or wait..."
Aurelius furrowed his heavy brows, his sharp gaze darting restlessly across the immense hall, counting and recalculating. "Wait, where is Faustus?"
Before anyone could answer, the atmosphere in the hall was cut short by a dull, heavy thud. The heavy side door burst open, and Dopo came tumbling into the room. His breathing was ragged, his face pale as a sheet, and beads of sweat stood on his forehead. He stumbled straight toward the king.
"Your Majesty," he gasped, his chest heaving violently. "Last night... the attack on the Dragonlord... it neutralized itself."
Dopo stepped in close to Solomon, leaning over to whisper directly into the king's ear. His voice was nothing more than a fearful, trembling vibration, so quiet that the rest of the group caught only an ominous hiss.
The king’s reaction was immediate. Solomon’s eyes widened, his pupils narrowing as a rare, fleeting look of pure shock and deep worry crossed his royal face. The indestructible monarch seemed to waver for a brief second under the weight of those words.
"Could not have gone any other way," Solomon muttered under his breath, his voice suddenly dark and heavy.
He closed his eyes, drew a long breath, and composed himself with his signature royal dignity. Turning back to the group, he spoke about the crushing weight of yesterday. His gaze lingered briefly on Silarias, resting with deep, almost fatherly concern, knowing full well the burdens the boy carried. But with a firm shake of his head, he cast the heaviness aside.
"The blueprint is not yet finished, not completely," Solomon declared, his voice regaining its powerful, inspiring ring. "And we are nowhere near having gathered all the necessary materials. SO, that is exactly what we are going to do now!"
He clapped his hands together. The sound echoed through the hall like a thunderclap out of a clear sky.
The sharp report snapped Miki and Ren wide awake. Ren instinctively jumped to attention, his eyes shooting wide open. Within a fraction of a second, the reality of his position dawned on him, and his face flushed a deep, burning shade of red that spread all the way behind his ears. Miki, still floating in a half-spiritual daze, hardly noticed the sudden distance. She wobbled, her eyes half-lidded, and muttered in a raspy voice, "Oh, so not in secret after all...?"
Her knees gave out entirely, and she tipped straight backward. Ren reacted with a fluid, reflex-driven sweep. Diving beneath her, his arms shot out, catching her just before her head could hit the cold marble floor.
Silarias burst into snickers, his shoulders shaking wildly with suppressed laughter as he watched the scene unfold. "RENN, why are you so red?!"
Nyx looked at Ren tenderly, her voice floating like a soft, soothing touch through the noisy hall. "It is not a bad thing, it is actually really cute."
Ren, his face now turning practically purple from sheer embarrassment, scrambled to regain his composure. He gently set Miki upright, tugged his clothes straight, and tried to act like a mature, seasoned warrior. He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin as if he were a world leader about to deliver a crucial address, which only made the contrast all the more hilarious.
"Come on, come on, do not make it awkward for them," Solomon said with a broad grin, flashing a wink.
The king raised his hand and snapped his fingers with a loud pop. Instantly, the world around them began to blur. The stone walls of the Bastion melted away, the floor dissolved, and their entire surroundings transformed into a churning, dizzying stream of pure light and vivid colors that swept them through space.
When the light faded and reality snapped back into place, the group materialized inside the grand, immense chamber of Valtharion. The room smelled of old ash and deep magic. The gigantic dragon stood majestically in the center of the hall, his scales shimmering like polished obsidian. Around him stood his silent, heavy-scaled bodyguards, unmoving as statues.
"Haha, I was already expecting you," the dragon’s deep voice rumbled, a sound that set the very bones of everyone present vibrating.
From behind his massive, heavily armored wing, a figure slowly crept forward. It was Faustus. His movements were hesitant, his eyes cast down toward the ground. "Heh, yeah Sil... I was already here."
Silarias observed his friend closely. He saw the raw, unvarnished pain in Faustus’s slumped posture, the way the boy tried to make himself smaller than he was. Without a moment's hesitation, Silarias walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps. Closing the distance, he pulled Faustus into a tight, firm embrace without a word.
"You are not standing alone," Silarias whispered, his voice a deep, unshakeable anchor in the vast room. "I miss her too."
Those words broke Faustus’s final line of defense. The impenetrable wall he had built around himself crumbled completely. His shoulders slumped, and he clung tightly to Silarias’s coat.
"Sil... auntie Kelayla was such a good woman," Faustus choked out, his voice strangled by a lump in his throat. "I miss everyone so... so terribly much."
The raw emotion in the room was contagious. Nyx felt tears burning in her own eyes; she stepped forward and joined the embrace. Solomon and Aurelius followed her lead, their large, strong arms forming a protective barrier against the outside world. Jane, Lyn, and Nicola immediately jumped in, determined to stand by their friends. Finally, Miki and Ren joined as well, their own eyes glistening with tears, until the entire group formed a tight knot of warmth and comfort.
The Draconian guards stood frozen. Their large, reptilian eyes widened at the sight of such raw, uninhibited human emotion. One of them whispered softly to his companion, "This is truly a different caliber of landlord, haha... are we allowed to...?"
Beat suddenly popped his head out from the clump of bodies, his signature energetic look fixed on them. "What are you staring at? You are part of the Ward too, right? A Ward is family!"
With a powerful tug, he reached out and dragged the bewildered, heavily armored guards straight into the group. Even the great Valtharion was surrounded by the warmth of the gathered souls, his massive tail curling protectively around them. Dopo stood off to the side looking a bit lost, his eyes darting restlessly for an exit, until Beat’s hand clapped down on his shoulder.
"Three seconds mister, and then you are in," Beat grinned. "Three... two..."
Dopo didn't wait for the count to finish; he leaped right into the middle of the group with a relieved, genuine smile.
Faustus felt the intense warmth of all those souls pressing against him, both literally and figuratively. The isolation that had consumed him for so long seemed to evaporate.
Is this it?
he thought to himself as a tear rolled down his cheek.
Is this what it feels like... when people truly love you?
The intimate moment was abruptly shattered by a series of bright, rhythmic flashes of light descending from the grand spiral staircase in the corner of the room. The radiance pulsed in mystical patterns across the walls. Solomon was the first to pull back, calling everyone to order in a clear voice.
Valtharion looked at the group and explained in his deep voice that the path to the lower crypts was far too long for travelers on foot. But before he could even finish his sentence properly, magical energy flared inside the room. In a blinding flash of teleportation, the entire group was displaced.
When their vision returned, they found themselves inside the legendary room of statues. Everything around them slowly lit up with an ancient, inner fire. In the exact center of the circular space stood a massive table bearing a blank, leather-bound atlas. But it was the statues surrounding the room that took everyone's breath away. They were the likenesses of the realm's greatest figures: Atrox, Cicil, Leah, Lili, Callester... and there, prominently displayed among the heroes of old, stood the perfectly sculpted statues of Silarias and Faustus.
Silarias walked forward slowly, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the inscription of his own name, and right beside it, Faustus's. The resemblance was terrifyingly flawless.
Valtharion and Faustus walked up to him, gesturing with somber faces toward the chair at the head of the table. "Sit down, Silarias," Faustus said softly, his hand resting on the backrest. "You still have four younger brothers and sisters... and a nephew who is still alive."
Silarias practically fell backward into the heavy chair. The world around him began to spin, the walls seemed to close in, and the surrounding voices faded into a ringing in his ears. "WAIT, WHAT?!" he blurted out, his voice cracking with pure disbelief.
Faustus simply gave a slow nod, the confirmation absolute and unshakeable.
The shock turned into an explosion of pure, untamed emotion. Silarias slammed his fist onto the wooden table with a deafening crash. The raw force of the impact rattled the massive atlas and made the timber groan. His eyes flared a brilliant blue, mystical energy surging through his veins as his arms began to involuntarily mutate, scales and veins pulsing beneath his skin.
"SO YOU ARE TELLING ME PEOPLE KNEW MY MOTHER," he roared, years of pain and frustration from being a 'nobody' spilling out all at once. "THAT I HAVE A FAMILY AND THAT I AM THE VESSEL OR WHAT?!"
Tears fell like heavy, glowing drops from his eyes, landing straight onto the ancient wood of the table. Where the drops touched the surface, they scorched deep, permanent grooves into the timber.
The entire room reacted instantly to his emotional outburst. The statues around them began to glow intensely in a blinding rainbow of magical hues. Crystals erupted with loud cracking sounds from every inch of the stone walls, shimmering and reflecting the light.
Upon the table, the previously blank atlas suddenly sprang to life. Magical ink flowed across the pages, shaping a living map. It displayed not merely the borders of lands and continents; across the entire world, tiny, brilliant lights began to ignite. Each light pulsed like a minuscule beating heart.
Ren and Miki leaned over the table with wide, gleaming eyes, fascinated by the painting of light. Nicola stepped closer, his sharp eyes analyzing the patterns with a deep furrow on his brow.
"These are real people," Nicola observed, his voice cool yet laced with awe. "They are marked on the map as individual points of light. This is a living registry."
Faustus looked at Silarias, a renewed, fragile spark of hope gleaming in his voice: "Then... then everyone is still alive?"
Solomon lost no time, immediately grabbing parchment and a pen, his eyes focused as he began jotting down the names appearing along the margins of the atlas. "Magnificent! This changes everything."
Valtharion turned his massive head toward Lyn, who was still silently taking in the room. "So, young blacksmith... what is the plan?"
Lyn stepped forward with quiet confidence. She closed her eyes and began sketching in the empty air with her fingers. As she moved, luminous lines shaped her vision in the space. It was the blueprint of a Bastion that was alive, a colossal castle built atop gigantic, walking legs. She pointed out the chambers: advanced laboratories, healing bathhouses, a truly massive training arena where entire armies could clash, and at the very top, a breathtaking star chamber to study the cosmos. Apollo’s magical horses would no longer merely pull carts; they would be transformed into the mechanical, tireless steeds bearing this enormous structure.
Nicola nodded in approval as he took in the complex schematics. "With Beat's unique crystals and the pure void residue from Faustus, we can drastically accelerate the forging process. The crystals possess unique properties: extreme velocity, spatial projection... it is quite strange, almost as if they bend the laws of physics."
Solomon leaned over unobserved toward Dopo, whispering in a low voice: "Did he just describe a Locoris Gemstone?"
Dopo stared straight ahead, his jaw set tight. "Yep."
Solomon was left speechless, his pen frozen mid-letter in the air.
Valtharion looked at the gathered group sternly, his voice dropping to a mystical tone: "Have any of you ever considered adding Soul Bound items or antings to the construction of the Bastion itself?"
At those words, the entire room fell dead silent. Outside, the wind seemed to die down.
"Wait...?" Miki and Ren looked at each other with open mouths and deep bewilderment. "Is that even possible? Mentor Juro never said a single word about that during training..."
The echo of Valtharion’s thundering laugh slowly died away in the far vaults of the hidden hall, while the sharp scent of ozone and ancient metal saturated the heavy air. Valtharion suddenly went stone still. His massive, reptilian head lowered gradually until his golden, vertical pupils lined up at the exact eye level of Lyn. The menacing aura vanished completely; he was now merely the guardian of forgotten, sacred knowledge.
"You carry within you the spark of a true blacksmith," the dragon spoke, his voice a low, vibrating tremor that resonated through the stone floor beneath their feet. "We held alliances in an age when the world still forged with elemental forces. The Free Forgers left us relics for the day someone would finally rise who could bear the weight of a completely new world."
With a solemn gesture of his giant claw, he pointed toward the gigantic, heavy double doors at the far end of the hall.
The doors began to move. They swung open with the eerie, harmonious singing of a hundred interacting, ancient gears. When the doors stood fully open, everyone held their breath. There it lay. A complete ocean of unimaginable raw materials. Massive stacks of star-steel shimmered like trapped galaxies in a deep, clear night. Resting between the stacks were enormous chunks of liquid magma pulsing gold in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm, eerily synchronized with the heartbeat of the world itself. Lyn walked toward them slowly, her fingers trembling with excitement and awe.
Two Draconian guards stomped forward with heavy, slow steps. Between them, they carried a chest made of solid, deep-black ebony. The chest seemed practically glued to the stone floor by a pure, unnatural gravity. With immense effort, the guards lifted the heavy lid.
There, resting on a bed of silk, lay the belt.
It was an absolute masterpiece of woven, indestructible dragon hide and living, breathing metal. Dozens of hammers of various sizes hung from it like ripe fruit on a tree. The two guards sank to their knees immediately, their bodies trembling and strained like drawn bows under the intense pressure. The belt was so heavy that it visibly warped the stone floor beneath the chest.
Lyn stepped forward with complete resolve. The belt seemed to recognize her presence instantly; a soft, harmonious hiss rose from the dark leather. Without fear, she reached out and took hold of the girdle.
Instead of the crushing, lethal weight that had forced the guards to their knees, the belt felt to her like nothing more than a featherlight silk ribbon. With a fluid motion, she buckled the belt around her waist. The strap immediately tightened on its own, fitting her waist perfectly like a second skin.
"As if you were calling out to me," Lyn whispered softly, while the two guards behind her collapsed onto the floor with a deep sigh of relief, finally freed from the inhuman weight.
Suddenly, the leather of the belt began to resonate violently. A warm radiance shone from the inscriptions. The dozens of hammers detached one by one from their loops and began floating weightlessly in the air. They spun at a frantic pace around Lyn, a flashing whirlwind of gleaming steel and a sound that rang like bright, metallic laughter.
"Forger! What to forge?!" called the heavy, massive hammers in deep voices that sounded like slamming anvils.
"YES MA'AM!" yelled the smaller, lighter tools in a cheerful, chaotic chorus that rang through the chamber.
Lyn looked at Miki and Ren with a mix of disbelief and pure adrenaline. "I... build?"
The floating hammers didn't even wait for her final command. Like a flock of hungry birds of prey, they dived in unison toward the immense supply of raw materials. A loud, smacking, absorbing sound rang out as the hungry metal greedily consumed the star-steel and the pulsing magma. After a loud, echoing burp of pure magical energy, the hammers shot straight through the thick stone walls like glowing projectiles.
"To the balcony! Quick!" Solomon shouted.
Everyone sprinted toward the massive outdoor balcony overlooking the Bastion. The sky above the castle had turned into a churning, boiling soup of molten auroras and purple lightning bolts. The hammers moved across the heavens like flashes of glowing whips, pummeling the very structure of reality. Valtharion watched over the scene as, from thirty distinct points in the glowing sky, the strikes struck simultaneously.
Each individual strike against the empty air rang out like a divine thunderclap. With every impact, the atmosphere burst open with a loud crack into perfect, geometric patterns of pure, intense white light.
The Bastion beneath their feet began to crystallize and mutate. Colossal towers shot upward out of the ground at breakneck speed, while walls of indestructible star-steel were slammed into their exact position in the foundation with deafening BANGS.
Down by the stables, the lighter hammers tapped at a furious tempo against Apollo’s horses. The beasts transformed in a terrifying, beautiful explosion of anatomical restructuring. A gleaming, obsidian-like exoskeleton fused with their biological coats. Their manes morphed into roaring flames of ash and pure light, whipping the air around them into a hissing, mighty hurricane.
In the exact center of the complex, the botanical gardens exploded into life. Gigantic maple trees shot up dozens of meters in seconds with a sound like shattering glass. Their leaves turned a deep, bloody red that pulsed rhythmically at the exact tempo of the hammer strikes in the sky. The earth trembled and shook to its core from the raw, untamed energy surging through the soil.
Lyn stood on the edge of the balcony, her eyes gleaming with pure power. She moved her arms like the conductor of a divine orchestra, and the entire architecture responded to her commands. A powerful wave of her left arm, and a brand-new, gigantic alchemy wing shot out from the side facade with a loud roar. A sharp forward thrust, and an entire racetrack of floating, magical stones formed a perfect ring around the highest towers.
King Solomon sat motionless on the stone railing, his royal eyes reflecting the wild yet breathtaking spectacle of creation.
"Children," he said in a soft voice struck with awe, as one of the largest hammers grazed past his face to rivet a final, massive wall into place. "This is no ordinary renovation. This is the birth of a monument. This is how legends are laid."
The very last hammer shot back toward the ebony chest with a sharp hiss. As it passed, it tossed a handful of glowing, freshly forged crystals into the opening, after which the entire structure of the brand-new Bastion began to pulse in a slow, deep rhythm.
It was no longer a dead building of stone and wood. It had transformed into a living, breathing organism of pure architecture and monumental magic, fully prepared to withstand the destructive storms waiting on the horizon.