The men were now watching the old man and the boy who were about to be punished. Drawn to the cruel spectacle that was about to unfold, they all turned their heads toward it unknowingly exposing their backs. Their attention was completely absorbed, already savoring the depravity of what they expected to see.
Logan and his group didn't let such a golden opportunity go to waste. They moved swiftly and silently, their footsteps ghostlike in the oppressive stillness of the mine.
One by one, before any of the guards could even notice, they were taken down. Each fell without a sound unaware, unprepared, erased in an instant. Only the one holding the whip remained, still oblivious to the fact that his comrades had already been neutralized.
He raised his arm to bring the whip down but strangely, it didn't move. His arm remained suspended midair, frozen in place. Confused, he turned his head and there, standing behind him, was a man clad in a black robe, wearing a white bird-shaped mask.
Before the guard could utter a single word, he was hurled violently against the mine's wall, the impact echoing through the cavern.
It was, of course, Logan who had sent him flying. He then walked toward the man with slow, deliberate steps, holding the whip that had just been used on the old slave. The mere sight of him made the guard's blood run cold; shivers raced down his spine, his breathing ragged as beads of cold sweat began to form across his trembling body.
"Let's see if you enjoy the feel of the whip," Logan said, his voice low and icy as he cracked it in his hands.
The man, desperate, struggled to break free from the wall but quickly realized he couldn't move. A layer of ice had formed around his limbs, freezing him in place. Aria stood nearby, her hand raised, her eyes burning with barely contained fury. The frost creeping across the man's body was her doing. She glared at him, her expression blazing with righteous anger and disgust.
"P-please…" the man whimpered, his voice trembling.
"Oh no, no, no…" Logan replied in a tone cold enough to freeze the air itself. "You don't get to ask for mercy."
He gave a slight, dismissive gesture ordering him to be silent.
Logan brought the whip down upon the man without the slightest hint of remorse, tearing away his clothes and leaving red marks across his flesh. As the man groaned in pain, it was, unfortunately for him, only the beginning of his torment. Logan lashed him again and again without restraint, shredding his garments into tatters. With each strike, the marks of the whip turned into cuts, then wounds, and finally into bleeding gashes. The whip had torn through the man's skin in a grotesque and brutal way, leaving open, raw, and jagged wounds across his body.
The man's screams of agony soon mixed with the cries of rage and joy coming from the slaves who witnessed the scene. Their shouts were charged with complex emotions a blend of satisfaction, vindication, and disbelief as they watched their tormentor suffer the very pain he had inflicted upon them.
These slaves, who had endured unbearable suffering, found in this moment of symbolic retribution a glimmer of hope. The cries echoing through the mine expressed their burning desire to see their oppressors pay for their sins. It was a moment of liberation a brief, cathartic reversal of roles allowing them to reclaim their stolen dignity and feel, at last, that their pain was being acknowledged.
Logan abruptly stopped whipping the man and turned his gaze toward the tunnel where they had entered. Marie instantly understood what that meant: they had been discovered, and the camp's reinforcements would soon arrive.
While Aria embraced the members of her tribe most of the boys she had once known as children now grown into young men she suddenly realized some were missing.
"Where are the others?" she asked.
They looked at her with dark, downcast expressions, their silence speaking louder than words those who were missing were no longer among the living. The same was likely true for those taken for experiments, many of whom might have been reduced to little more than empty shells.
"I see," Aria murmured, biting her lip.
Her face tightened before she managed a brief, pained smile a smile filled with immeasurable sorrow.
"What matters most is that we're getting you out of here," she assured them.
Marie hurried over to join Aria, fully aware of the urgency of their situation. With a swift motion, she opened a portal at their feet a glowing gateway to escape.
"Go! Everyone, hurry through!" she urged the members of Aria's tribe.
Without hesitation, they leapt into the portal one after another. Once Aria's tribe had all gone through, the other slaves began to move forward as well but Marie immediately stepped in their way.
"What?" one of the slaves said in shock.
"We're only here to retrieve the members of the previous tribe."
"What?! Why?" shouted another.
"Take us too!" yelled a third.
"Please, I beg you take us with you!" pleaded another.
"You… you're a beastwoman under that mask, aren't you? Please!" implored one, clasping his hands together.
But Aria turned away, unable to meet their eyes a silent sign that she would not take them. The hope that had flared so brightly before them was snuffed out as swiftly as it had been born.
In desperation, some tried to rush toward the blue gate that represented freedom itself. But suddenly, a wall of ice erupted before them, blocking their path and cutting off their escape.
Their only passage to freedom had been sealed for good. They understood then that they could do nothing they could not fight, nor force their way through. Aria's and Marie's hearts clenched painfully, overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow. It was heartbreaking to abandon the others, to let them taste hope only to wrench it away moments later. But Stanislas's orders had been clear: they were to save Aria's tribe and no one else.
The remaining slaves sank into despair at this cruel abandonment. Their eyes reflected hopelessness and grief, as though they had been cast into a bottomless abyss. Some broke into tears, clinging to one another, mentally preparing themselves for the endless torment that awaited them until their final breath. It was a harrowing sight a portrait of anguish, suffering, and the death of hope.
At that very moment when all light seemed lost Logan stepped forward. His strides were calm, deliberate, yet filled with quiet authority. Like a king walking among his people, his footsteps echoed through the cavern as he approached the wall of ice the very symbol of their despair.
He placed his hand upon it. Under his touch, the barrier shattered into a thousand fragments. The sight was breathtaking the ice cracked with a clear, resonant sound before bursting apart into a cascade of glimmering shards. A shower of white sparks danced around him like a fleeting constellation. The ethereal beauty of the moment left everyone stunned, unable to look away.
Then, Logan spoke his voice deep, resonant, and powerful, yet carrying an undercurrent of compassion.
"Go."
The beastmen gazed upon him with awe and reverence, seeing in him the very image of a long-awaited savior. Those simple words resounded like a divine decree, an invitation to freedom long denied. Their eyes, which moments before had been clouded by tears of sorrow, now filled with tears of joy with the rebirth of hope.
The masked man before them, radiating a magnetic aura, stood like a providential figure. The chains of servitude seemed to melt away beneath his presence, dissolving under the will of a savior. Their hearts swelled with emotions too vast to describe the relief of escaping misery, the gratitude of being freed, the belief that life might finally grant them mercy.
In that solemn instant, filled with gratitude and reverence, the beastmen all bowed deeply before him, lowering their foreheads to the ground in a gesture of profound devotion. From their frail bodies and wounded hearts emanated a sincerity that no words could capture.
When their respects had been paid, they turned toward the blue portal, ready to grasp their freedom. Marie and Aria stepped aside to let them pass.
"Logan, the Guildmaster said only Aria's tribe," Marie reminded him.
"That was true at first," Logan replied. "But we renegotiated before you came back. There'll be no issue. With our perfect scapegoat, we can save them all."
"Alright, but that means more mouths to feed, more space to hide, and more expenses. We can't take every risk," Marie warned.
"The guild has resources and if needed, I'll take every mission they throw at me to make up the cost," Logan said firmly.
"In that case, I'll do the same!" added Aria with determination.
"Yes, but… ugh, fine," sighed Marie, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
In agreement, they all stepped through the portal.
On the other side, they found themselves in what looked like a vast warehouse. Yet, contrary to what they expected, there were no goods or supplies on the shelves. The place was empty silent marked by time and abandonment.
Dim light filtered through cracks in the walls, painting shifting patterns on the dusty floor. Wooden beams, aged and splintered, supported the roof, giving the space a haunting yet strangely beautiful atmosphere.
Their footsteps echoed through the hollow building, creating a soft rhythm that felt like the only living sound in this forgotten place. At the far end, a faint, golden light streamed through a cracked window covered in cobwebs. Beyond it, an unexpected sight awaited a lush forest stretching endlessly into the distance, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. The tall trees swayed gently to the rhythm of an unseen breeze, whispering a tranquil, natural symphony.
After everyone had taken in the sight, Marie finally spoke.
"You'll stay here for a while. We've stocked food and water for you," she said, pointing toward several large crates in the corner.
Strangely, many of the beastmen turned their gaze toward Logan, as if silently declaring that he was the one they would follow. After all, Marie would have left them behind in the mines had it not been for him. She sighed and threw him a brief glance, silently asking him to speak.
Logan stepped forward.
"Don't blame her," he said calmly. "She was only following orders. We'll explain everything later. For now, as she said stay here. Rest. Eat. We'll be going to free more people."
The beastmen all nodded, a faint gleam of admiration in their eyes as he spoke those words words that promised salvation beyond their own. They didn't know who this man truly was, nor what drove him. His face was hidden, his name unknown. But one thing was certain he was their savior. They owed him their freedom, and perhaps their very lives. And for now, that was enough.
When all was said, Marie opened another portal this time leading to the Alchemists' Guild. Stepping through it, the three of them emerged atop a tall building overlooking the guild itself.
The structure below was a proud, slender tower rising high among the other buildings its gleaming white marble catching the pale light of the moon. It stood majestic and dignified, like a needle piercing the sky. Every detail of its architecture had been crafted with precision, and ornate stone sculptures adorned its facade, adding elegance to its flawless design.
"Where did you set the portal?" Logan asked, eyeing the building.
"In the bathroom on the first floor," Marie replied.
"Why not somewhere else?"
"Impossible," she explained. "The Alchemists' Guild strictly monitors all entries and exits. Only members and high-ranking guests can move freely. Anyone else is escorted by guards. The only place I could manage to set a portal was there after pretending I just needed to use their facilities."
"So we have no idea where they're being held?" Aria asked sharply.
Seeing part of her family again had reignited her inner fire a fierce, unyielding determination to save the rest.
"I'll find them," declared Logan, gazing at the tower.
He closed his eyes, entering a deep state of concentration. His senses expanded, reaching outward as he activated his radar to its fullest. His perception stretched through the walls of the Alchemists' Tower, exploring every corner with astonishing precision detecting every movement, every flicker of heat, every heartbeat.
After fifteen long minutes, he opened his eyes and spoke.
"I've found them. They're in the basement, about thirty meters below ground. Guards are stationed nearby looks like holding cells. But there's also a lot of movement… people going in and out constantly."
"According to my intel, most of the experiments take place at night," added Marie.
"We have no stealth abilities," Logan reasoned. "And with all this traffic, slipping in unnoticed would be impossible."
He was being realistic. The confined space of the guild was a far cry from the open mines, and the constant flow of people made it nearly impossible to subdue opponents quietly. The previous approach simply wouldn't work here.
"So what, we just do nothing?" Aria asked.
"There are two options," Logan said evenly. "First: we abandon the mission."
"That's not an option!" she shot back. "What if we split into two teams one makes a diversion while the other frees the captives?"
Logan looked at her he could feel her frustration and desperation to save her family. But he also glanced toward Marie before replying.
"That won't work. We'd draw too much attention, and splitting up would make us vulnerable. We'd be outnumbered before we even reached them."
Aria lowered her head, realizing she had spoken impulsively, without considering all the factors. Logan's explanation made sense cold, logical, but true.
"The second option," he continued, "is to charge straight in. We break into the cells, free the captives, and escape as fast as possible."
"Then let's do it!" Aria exclaimed, regaining her fighting spirit.
"The choice isn't ours to make," Logan said, turning once again to Marie.
Marie paused in thought, her eyes meeting Aria's desperate, pleading gaze.
"Please… it's my family," Aria whispered.
Marie exhaled slowly. "We'll do it. But no killing and we move fast."
She and Logan shared an understanding of the situation's gravity. The alchemists were scholars, not warriors but they had to act with extreme speed and precision. Once the alarm sounded, all manner of forces could descend upon them royal knights, adventurers, or, worst of all, the Church.
And it wouldn't end there. After this assault, they would still have to storm the Beast Palace to complete their mission. If the alarm spread before they arrived, they might find themselves facing catastrophic consequences.
Every step from here on demanded flawless execution. A single mistake could doom them all.
Logan, their radar and strategist, naturally took command. The time for talk was over now came action.
The Beast Night, which had begun only hours earlier, was about to reach its true peak. What would happen next would shake the balance on both sides.
A blue portal flared open before them.
"Let's move," Logan declared, leaping through first followed closely by Aria, and finally Marie.