Anya Volkov's face was a mask of cold, intellectual fury. Her sanctuary, her fortress of science, was being besieged by a petulant fool and his hired thugs. The insult was profound.
"The Observatory's automated defenses are more than capable of destroying that submersible," she stated, her fingers already flying across a console, preparing to unleash the facility's hidden weaponry. "I will vaporize them."
"No," Ren said, his voice cutting through her anger with a calm authority. "Don't."
Anya froze, turning to look at him. "They are a direct threat. Eliminating them is the most logical course of action."
"You would be playing his game," Ren explained, his eyes fixed on the sneering face of the young noble on the viewscreen. "You would be confirming that I am here. You would be creating a diplomatic incident between two Noble Houses, a loud, messy explosion that would draw the attention of GAMA and the Pagoda like sharks to blood. He wins. We lose."
He pointed to the screen. "He is not the true threat. He is a child throwing a tantrum. The mercenaries he hired, however… they are the real problem. They are professionals. They will not attack a fortified House Volkov facility directly. They will simply wait. They will enforce a blockade, cutting us off."
Anya's mind processed his logic instantly. He was right. A direct confrontation was exactly what the arrogant heir wanted.
"What do you suggest?" she asked, her anger giving way to a cold, pragmatic calculus.
"He wants the rat," Ren said, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Let's give him the dragon."
He turned and walked towards the Observatory's main exit, the one that led to the hidden landing platform. "I will handle this. Keep the defenses on standby. Do not interfere unless I give the signal."
"You are still injured," Anya protested, a flicker of genuine concern crossing her features. "Your Aether reserves are not at full capacity."
"I won't need my full capacity for this," Ren replied without looking back.
The heavy blast door slid open, and Ren stepped out onto the landing platform. The wind and the sea spray hit him instantly. He stood in the open, in his simple grey tunic, looking across the water at the mercenary submersible.
The three blue-clad mercenaries on the deck immediately tensed, their harpoon rifles raising to aim at him.
On the bridge of the sub, the young noble of House Barracuda laughed with glee. "There he is! The rat has come out of his hole! See, Lady Volkov? He knows when he is beaten! Mercenaries, retrieve my property!"
The lead mercenary, a hulking man with a scarred face, barked an order. He and his two comrades activated the Aetheric drives in their boots, leaping from the deck of the sub and across the churning water, landing with heavy thuds on the landing platform, fanning out to surround Ren.
"Nothing personal, boy," the lead merc grunted, his voice a low rumble. "But the pay is good. Come quietly, and we won't have to break your legs."
Ren simply looked at the three of them. They were powerful, all mid-to-high tier Apprentices. A week ago, they would have been a serious threat. Now, they were a test. A chance to practice the new art he had just learned.
He didn't summon a weapon. He didn't even tense his muscles. He simply reached out with his will, with the perfect, flawless control he had gained from the Third Tempering. He was not a raging storm now. He was a conductor standing before his orchestra.
And he began to weave.
He drew upon the Aether within his own core, and with the mental blueprint he had stolen from the Heart of the Tempest, he began to construct the Aegis of the Storm.
It did not form in a flash. It was built, thread by thread, in the air around him. A complex, lattice-like cage of pure, humming, azure lightning materialized, its lines as fine as a spider's web but humming with the power of a contained hurricane. It formed a perfect, twenty-foot dome around him, a shield of breathtaking, lethal beauty.
The three mercenaries stared, their confident expressions melting into pure, slack-jawed shock. They had never seen anything like it. It was not a shield. It was a work of art. A cage made of lightning.
"What… what is that?" one of them stammered.
Inside the Observatory, Anya gasped, her hands flying over her console, her sensors desperately trying to analyze the structure. "The energy output is stable… the geometry is perfect… it's a self-sustaining resonant field… impossible…"
On the bridge of the sub, the young noble's sneer had been replaced by a look of utter disbelief.
Ren stood calmly in the center of his Aegis. He looked at the lead mercenary and gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "You may fire when ready," he said, his voice calm and clear over the howling wind.
The lead merc, snapping out of his shock and driven by a surge of anger and greed, roared and fired his harpoon rifle. A bolt of jagged, destructive energy shot towards Ren.
The bolt struck the Aegis of the Storm. It did not explode. It did not ricochet. The moment it touched the lattice of azure lightning, its energy was simply… absorbed. The chaotic, destructive Aether of the harpoon was drawn into the shield, pacified, and added to the Aegis's own humming power. The azure lines of the shield glowed slightly brighter.
The mercenary stared at his rifle, then at the shield, his mind unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Ren had not blocked the attack. He had eaten it.
He looked at the three terrified mercenaries, now trapped within his field of control. "My turn," he said, his voice quiet.
And the storm he had caged began to sing.