Eight Hours Later - Southern Docks, Midnight
The night had swallowed Valisar whole. Thick clouds obscured the moon, casting the southern docks into near-total darkness broken only by scattered torches that created more shadows than light. The air was heavy with the smell of salt water, rotting wood, and something else something wrong that Magnus's enhanced senses picked up immediately.
Fear. Desperation. Misery.
The Bartion warehouse loomed before them like a monument to human cruelty. Three stories of weathered stone and timber, its red door visible even in the darkness exactly as the letter had described. Windows on all floors were barred, and Magnus could see guards patrolling the perimeter with military precision.
The squad had split into two groups, positioned in the shadows of adjacent buildings. Magnus crouched on a rooftop with Finn and Rhea, all three wrapped in his shadow aura like living pieces of night. Below, Darius held position in an alley with Sera, Brutus, and Marcus, ready to breach the moment Magnus gave the signal.
"I count eight guards outside," Finn whispered, his sharp eyes tracking movement patterns. "Two at the main entrance, one on each side, two on the roof, one patrolling the perimeter. Professional setup."
"Too professional for a simple warehouse," Rhea observed quietly. "These are trained mercenaries, not common thugs."
Magnus's shadow sense pushed outward, extending through the building like invisible tendrils. His divine shadow stirred within his dantian, responding to his need, helping him perceive what normal senses couldn't reach.
"Ground floor... twelve guards, maybe fifteen. They're positioned around something I think the cages." His crimson eyes burned brighter as anger surged through him. "I can sense... small presences. Children. Twenty, maybe more. Gods, there are so many..."
"Second floor?" Finn asked.
Magnus concentrated harder, his shadow sense climbing. "Four guards. Fewer children—maybe five or six. They're separated somehow. Different room."
"Third floor?"
"One guard. And..." Magnus's shadow sense touched something that made his skin crawl. "There's someone else up there. Powerful aura. Not a guard someone important. Could be Verne himself."
"Or his buyer," Rhea said darkly. "The letter mentioned they were being sold."
Magnus pulled his shadow sense back, the effort making his head throb. Using his divine shadow without understanding it was like trying to lift a weight he couldn't see—exhausting and dangerous.
"Marcus," Magnus whispered into the communication spell linking all seven of them. "Can you detect any magical wards or alarms?"
The young mage's nervous voice came back immediately. "Y-yes. Three detection wards on the doors and windows. Standard alarm spells they'll trigger if anyone crosses without the proper authorization token. I can disable them, but it'll take time and... and they might have backup wards I can't detect."
"Do we have time?" Darius's voice cut in, cold and professional.
"Not if we want to catch them during the transfer," Magnus said. "The letter said midnight. It's eleven forty-five now."
Darius was silent for a moment, calculating. "Then we adapt. Magnus, can you bypass the wards with your shadow techniques?"
Magnus tested his shadow aura against one of the wards from a distance. The magical energy sparked and resisted, but his divine shadow that deeper darkness he didn't understand seemed to slip through it like oil through water.
"Yes," he said, surprised. "My shadow can pass through without triggering them."
"Good. New plan." Darius's command voice took over. "Magnus, Finn, Rhea—you three go through the roof skylight. Use Magnus's shadow to bypass the wards. Get to the third floor, secure whoever's up there, and work your way down freeing the children. The moment you have the third floor secure, signal us."
"How?" Sera asked.
"Shadow flare," Magnus said. "I'll create a burst of shadow energy visible from your position. When you see it, breach the main entrance and hit them hard. Maximum chaos, maximum speed."
"What about the children in the crossfire?" Brutus rumbled, concern evident in his deep voice.
"That's why we're moving floor by floor," Magnus explained. "We secure the upper levels first, establish safe zones, then when you breach downstairs, the children on the lower floors will already have cover."
"It's risky," Sera said.
"Everything about this is risky," Magnus shot back. "But waiting for perfect conditions means children die. We move now."
"Agreed," Darius said firmly. "All teams, final equipment check. We go in five minutes."
Magnus looked at Finn and Rhea. Both had their faces set in grim determination, weapons ready. Finn's daggers gleamed dully in the faint torchlight, poison coating the blades. Rhea's twin short swords were already in her hands, her Poison Fang Aura suppressed but ready to deploy.
"Remember," Magnus said quietly. "These are children we're saving. Don't let your guard down, but also don't let them see more violence than necessary. They've been through enough."
"Understood," Finn said.
Rhea simply nodded, her grey eyes hard as steel.
Magnus's shadow aura expanded, wrapping around all three of them like a living cloak. To anyone watching, they simply vanished—three shadows merging with the darkness.
"Phantom Lotus Steps."
They moved.
The Infiltration
The two roof guards never knew what hit them.
Magnus materialized behind the first like a ghost, his hand covering the man's mouth as his blade found the kidney—quick, silent, lethal. The guard's eyes widened in shock, then glazed as life fled.
Simultaneously, Finn's dagger opened the second guard's throat before he could raise an alarm. Blood spurted, but Finn caught the body, lowering it silently.
"Two down," Finn whispered into the communication spell. "Roof secure."
"Copy," Darius's voice came back. "Proceed."
Magnus approached the skylight, examining it with his enhanced senses. The glass was old, the frame rusted, but the magical ward covering it pulsed with active energy. He placed his hand against the glass, letting his shadow aura flow forward.
The divine shadow within him stirred, responding to his need. Darkness seeped through the ward like smoke through a screen, bypassing the magical trigger entirely. Magnus felt the mechanism—a simple lock, easy to manipulate.
Click.
The skylight opened silently.
Magnus peered down into darkness. Below, he could see a narrow hallway on the third floor, lit by a single torch. One guard stood outside a closed door, looking bored and tired.
"One guard on third floor," Magnus whispered. "Single target, isolated. Finn, you're up."
Finn grinned in the darkness, pulling out a specialized throwing knife. He aimed carefully, compensating for distance and angle, then released.
The knife flew true, embedding itself in the guard's throat. The man gurgled once, hands going to his neck, then collapsed.
"Clear."
Magnus dropped through the skylight first, his Phantom Lotus Steps making the three-story fall completely silent. He landed in a crouch, shadows coiling around him like protective armor.
Finn and Rhea followed, both landing with professional grace.
Magnus moved to the fallen guard, checking for any alarm devices or communication tools. Finding none, he dragged the body into a dark corner.
The door the guard had been protecting was made of heavy oak, reinforced with iron bands. Magnus pressed his ear against it, listening.
Voices. Two of them. One male, cultured and aristocratic. The other male as well, but rougher, more military.
"—assured the shipment would be ready by midnight," the aristocratic voice said with obvious irritation.
"It is ready, Lord Verne," the rougher voice replied. "Thirty-two children, sorted by age and... marketability. Your buyers will be pleased."
Magnus's shadow aura flared with rage. Verne. He was here. In this room. Right now.
"And the one who escaped?" Verne asked.
"Found and... dealt with. The body's been disposed of. No more letters, no more problems."
The child who wrote the letter. Dead.
Magnus's crimson eyes blazed with cold fury. His shadow aura began to pulse with barely contained violence, that divine shadow within him responding to his rage.
Rhea placed a warning hand on his shoulder. "Control," she whispered. "We need him alive for interrogation."
Magnus forced himself to breathe, to think, to focus. She was right. Justice required more than simple vengeance.
"Two targets inside," Magnus whispered into the communication spell. "Confirmed: Lord Verne is present. One guard with him. Preparing to breach."
"Wait for my signal," Darius commanded. "We need to coordinate—"
A child's scream shattered the night.
It came from below, terrified and agonized. Then more screams joined it, a chorus of fear and pain.
"They're starting the selection process," the rough voice inside said calmly, as if discussing the weather. "Always makes them scream, the first time they realize what's happening."
Something inside Magnus snapped.
"Forget the signal," he said coldly. "We're breaching now."
"Magnus, wait—" Darius started.
Magnus didn't wait. His shadow aura exploded outward, and he kicked the door with enhanced strength. The oak splintered, the iron bands warping, and the door crashed inward in a shower of debris.
Inside was a well-appointed office—desk, chairs, maps on the walls. Lord Cassius Verne stood by the window, a thin man in expensive robes, his aristocratic face showing surprise that quickly turned to fear. Beside him stood a large mercenary in leather armor, sword already half-drawn.
"Who—" Verne started.
"Shadowmire Binding!"
Dark tendrils erupted from the floor, wrapping around both men before they could react. The mercenary's sword clattered to the ground as shadows constricted around his arms and legs. Verne screamed, a high-pitched sound of terror.
Magnus moved forward, his face a mask of cold fury, shadows writhing around him like living creatures. His crimson eyes burned with supernatural intensity.
"You're Lord Verne?" Magnus asked quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"I—I am a lord of Valisar!" Verne sputtered, trying to maintain dignity despite his terror. "You can't—"
Magnus's hand shot out, gripping Verne's throat. Not hard enough to crush, just enough to silence him. "Do you know who wrote this?" He pulled out the bloodstained letter with his free hand, shoving it in Verne's face. "Do you know what happened to this child?"
Verne's eyes widened as he recognized the letter. "I—that was—"
"Dead," Magnus said flatly. "Your guard just said so. 'Found and dealt with.' That child is dead because they tried to save the others."
"It was business," Verne wheezed. "Just business. Supply and demand. The poor breed too many children anyway, they're—"
Magnus's grip tightened, cutting off the words. For a moment, his divine shadow pulsed, and darkness seemed to crawl up his arm like living ink. The temperature in the room dropped, frost forming on the windows.
"Magnus," Rhea's voice was sharp. "Don't. We need him alive."
Magnus held Verne for one more second, staring into the noble's terrified eyes, then released him with disgust. The shadows binding Verne tightened instead, suspending him in the air.
"Finn, Rhea—secure them both. Gag them. I don't want to hear another word from his filthy mouth."
As they worked, Magnus moved to the window. Below, he could see guards rushing around in confusion, alerted by the sounds of the breach. The element of surprise was gone.
"All teams," Magnus said into the communication spell, his voice cold and controlled. "Third floor secure. Two prisoners. But we've been compromised. Darius, breach now. Maximum aggression. They know we're here."
"Copy," Darius's voice came back, hard and focused. "All teams, go go go!"
Below, Magnus saw the alley explode with movement. Brutus charged the main entrance like a siege engine, his warhammer glowing with his Earth Breaker Aura. The red door shattered under his assault, wood and metal flying like shrapnel.
Sera flowed through the opening like water, her twin swords already cutting through the surprised guards inside. Marcus followed, staff glowing as he began chanting protective spells.
Darius brought up the rear, his enchanted greatsword held ready, his commanding voice cutting through the chaos: "Secure the children! Anyone who resists, put them down!"
"Second floor," Magnus said to Finn and Rhea. "We move now. Those children up there are isolated—easy targets if anyone panics."
They burst from the office into the hallway, Magnus's shadow sense guiding them to a stairwell. They descended rapidly, Magnus in the lead, his sabers finally drawn and thirsting for blood.
The second floor opened into a narrow corridor with doors on both sides. Magnus's shadow sense told him which one held children—the third door on the right.
But there were guards too. Three of them, already moving toward the sounds of combat below.
"Targets ahead," Magnus whispered. "Finn, left. Rhea, right. I'll take center."
They struck like a coordinated nightmare.
Finn's daggers flew first, one embedding in the left guard's eye, the other in his throat. The man dropped without a sound.
Rhea's Poison Fang Aura flared green as she engaged the right guard. Her blade kissed his arm—just a shallow cut—but the poison worked instantly. Black veins spread from the wound, and the guard collapsed, convulsing.
Magnus took the center guard, his shadow aura flaring. The man tried to draw his sword, but shadows wrapped around his arms, binding them. Magnus's saber found his heart, a clean thrust that ended the threat immediately.
"Clear," Magnus said, moving to the door. "Children inside this room. Stand back."
He tried the handle—locked. Rather than waste time picking it, he channeled shadow energy into his foot and kicked. The door flew inward, lock shattering.
Inside was horror.
Six children huddled in a corner, ranging in age from maybe six to fourteen. They were filthy, bruised, terrified. Their eyes were hollow with trauma, and when they saw Magnus—covered in blood, shadows writhing around him—they screamed.
Magnus immediately suppressed his shadow aura, holding up his hands. "It's okay," he said, his voice gentle despite the rage still burning in his chest. "We're here to help. We're rescuing you."
The children didn't believe him. They'd been lied to too many times.
Rhea stepped forward, her appearance less intimidating than Magnus's blood-covered form. "My name is Rhea. We're from the palace. Prince Ethan sent us to save you. You're safe now."
One of the older children, a girl maybe thirteen, looked at them with eyes far too old for her age. "You're... really here to help?"
"Yes," Magnus said firmly. "I promise you. We're taking you home."
The girl started crying, and suddenly all six children were crying, the terror finally breaking through their shock.
"Finn, stay with them," Magnus commanded. "Protect them. Rhea and I are going down to the first floor."
"On it," Finn said, moving into the room and positioning himself by the door. His usual joking demeanor was completely gone, replaced by professional focus.
Magnus and Rhea descended to the first floor, where chaos reigned.
The warehouse floor was massive, and it was filled with cages. Just as Magnus's shadow sense had indicated, there were dozens of them, each holding two or three children. Some of the cages had been opened by Darius's team, children being led to a safe corner while Sera and Brutus held off the remaining guards.
But there were more guards than expected—at least twenty, well-armed and well-trained. They'd formed a defensive line, protecting something in the back of the warehouse.
"More prisoners back there," Magnus said, his shadow sense reaching out. "They're protecting their 'product.' If we don't break through fast, they might start executing them as leverage."
"Then we break through," Rhea said coldly.
Magnus's divine shadow stirred, responding to his need. He didn't fully understand it, couldn't control it properly, but right now he didn't care.
"Abyssal Rend!"
He crossed his sabers, and darkness exploded from them. A rift opened in reality itself, a tear in space filled with absolute shadow. The rift expanded, and the guards in its path simply ceased to exist—their bodies torn apart by forces that shouldn't exist in the mortal world.
Five guards died instantly. The rest broke and ran, their formation shattered by the supernatural horror they'd just witnessed.
"Brutus, left side!" Darius commanded, his greatsword cutting through a guard who'd tried to attack from behind. "Sera, with Magnus! Secure those back cages!"
Brutus charged like a mountain given motion, his warhammer crushing anyone foolish enough to stand in his way. Marcus followed in his wake, staff glowing as he cast binding spells to immobilize fleeing guards.
Magnus and Sera reached the back cages together. Inside were more children, these ones even younger—some barely old enough to walk.
"Sweet gods," Sera whispered, her stone facade cracking completely. "They're babies. Some of them are just babies."
Magnus's hands shook with rage as he shattered the locks with shadow-enhanced strikes. The cages opened, and the children inside looked at them with eyes that had forgotten hope.
"Come on," Magnus said gently, kneeling down to their level. "We're taking you home. To your families. This is over."
One tiny girl, maybe four years old, looked at him with solemn eyes. "Are you an angel?" she asked in a small voice.
Magnus felt something crack in his chest. "No, little one. I'm just someone who's very angry at the people who hurt you."
"My mama," the girl said. "I want my mama."
"We'll find her," Magnus promised. "I swear to you, we'll find her."
Behind them, the battle was ending. The remaining guards had either fled or been neutralized. Darius stood in the center of the warehouse, his greatsword dripping blood, his face grim.
"Casualty report," he commanded.
"No friendly casualties," Sera reported. "Brutus has some minor cuts, nothing serious. Marcus is exhausted from spell-casting but okay."
"Enemy casualties?" Darius asked.
"Twelve dead, eight subdued and bound, at least six escaped," Sera said. "We couldn't hold them all without risking the children."
"Acceptable," Darius said. "The mission was rescue, not extermination. We got what we came for." He looked at the freed children, his expression softening slightly. "Get them organized. We need to move them to safety before any reinforcements arrive."
Magnus stood, looking at the thirty-two children they'd rescued. Thirty-two lives saved. But one life lost—the brave child who'd written the letter, who'd sacrificed everything to give these others a chance.
"Darius," Magnus said quietly. "The child who wrote the letter. Verne's guard said they were 'dealt with.' Body disposed of."
Darius's jaw tightened. "Then we make sure their death meant something. These children live because of that letter. That's the memorial they deserve."
Magnus nodded, the cold rage in his chest not diminishing. One day, he'd find out where they'd disposed of that brave child's body. And he'd give them a proper burial, with honors.
But right now, the living needed him more than the dead.
"Let's get them home," Magnus said.
As they began organizing the children for evacuation, Magnus looked up at the third floor where Verne was bound and gagged. This was just one warehouse. One node in a larger network.
And Magnus intended to burn that entire network to ash.
The war on Valisar's corruption had begun.
To Be Continued in Chapter 32..