"No!"
Blake froze, every nerve screaming in terror as his gaze locked on the other young man. His mind spun in disbelief and panic—he had never expected that youth to be a Psychic Mage. Every carefully nurtured thought of secrecy evaporated like mist in sunlight. Every plot, every painstaking effort to remain unseen, was rendered meaningless in a single moment.
For the first time, Blake truly understood the despair he had inflicted on others when he had unleashed his Black Beast experiments. And yet, here he was, utterly powerless, ensnared by the very type of control he had believed only he could command. Madness and humiliation battled in his chest. How could someone have discovered him so quickly, so precisely? There had to be insider knowledge—otherwise, his exposure was impossible.
"Psychic Mage!"
Commander Kane's voice shattered the tense silence, sharp, incredulous. He had encountered only a handful of the most powerful magical disciplines in his years of command, and Psychic Mages were rarities even among the elite. That an aide to Jayce—whom he had assumed was merely a follower of Kain Clinton—could wield such powers was almost unbelievable.
Kane had long suspected the boy's potential, but this was revelation incarnate. A high-tier Psychic Mage among them was both a blessing and a dangerous complication. For a moment, Kane recalled the youth's family backing and political influence—it had allowed him to join the elite Arcane Guard Detachment—but he had not foreseen this degree of mastery.
Blake now found himself cornered, utterly defenseless. Against the cold, precise influence of a Psychic Mage of such caliber, no excuses, no explanations, no pleas could alter the outcome. Every word he spoke fell powerless; every denial rang hollow.
"Ha… ha… ha! You're all going to die!" Blake suddenly shrieked, madness bleeding into his tone. "Even if I fall, you'll follow me! Come on! Kill me if you dare—I'll be waiting for you below!"
The camp fell into a stunned silence. Even the seasoned mages of the detachment stared, shocked, at Blake's wild, almost feral expression. All pretense had been stripped away, revealing the chaos and danger of the Black Cult he represented. The tension was suffocating. Who could be certain there weren't more hidden agents lying in wait?
Kane's fury ignited like a wildfire, burning hot and unrestrained. As a soldier, he harbored a profound hatred for the Black Cult, and realizing that one of their operatives had infiltrated his ranks sent a shiver down his spine. This revelation meant that Alice Springs was far from safe—at any moment, a catastrophe could unfold.
"Blake!" Kane growled, eyes ablaze. "You will tell me everything you know! Or I will make you feel the searing pain of flame!"
Blake's courage had vanished. He understood that under Kain Clinton's watchful gaze, even the searing agony of fire would be preferable to the punishment that this young Psychic Mage could mete out. And then Kain stepped forward, a calm yet sinister smile curling his lips. His presence radiated an almost malevolent authority, the sort that could make the strongest soldier quail.
"Hold on," Kain said, voice low and deliberate, cutting through the tension like a blade. "This one is in my custody. The questioning should be mine to conduct."
Blake trembled. Even the thought of enduring Kane's flames seemed easier than facing the calculated malevolence emanating from Kain.
"You heard him," Kane snapped, his composure slipping. "Blake is a member of our military! Handling him isn't your place!"
Kain's sharp golden eyes glinted with mischief and defiance. "Ah, Kane, I remember you once promised to protect Blake. Has your loyalty shifted, or do you now intend to shelter him?"
A ripple of murmurs swept through the camp. Such an accusation—linking Blake to the Black Cult—was catastrophic. The implications were staggering, the weight of danger palpable. Kane's face flushed crimson with rage. He had ruled Alice Springs with authority and dominance, and yet this audacious youth dared to challenge him verbally.
Before the tension could escalate further, a figure stepped forward. Tara Young, a teacher and trainee adjudicator from the Arcane Tribunal – Australian High Council, approached with measured steps. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, swept over Kain before settling on him with quiet authority.
"I am a trainee adjudicator of the Arcane Tribunal," she announced, her voice calm yet commanding. "I came to Alice Springs to investigate leads on the Black Cult, and it appears one has been revealed. Matters of this magnitude are best handled by professionals. Allow me to take Blake into custody."
A collective gasp rose from the onlookers. The appearance of Tribunal authority elevated the situation far beyond anyone's expectations. Even Kane paused, realizing that a single traitor's capture had escalated into a matter involving national-level oversight.
"I have no objection," Kane said after a long moment, his anger cooled by reason. One insurgent was not worth continued conflict.
Kain, meanwhile, smiled slyly. His tone shifted subtly when addressing Tara, careful to maintain politeness while preserving his usual edge. "I am willing to hand Blake over—but there is one condition."
Tara's eyes sparked with curiosity. Kain—handsome, brilliant, confident—was almost a living embodiment of the idealized hero she had once imagined in her youth.
"What condition?" she asked, intrigued.
"If you are willing to consider joining the Arcane Tribunal yourself," Kain said lightly, "I may entertain your request."
Though casually stated, Tara understood the implication: he was offering a form of approval, a silent acknowledgment of her capability, woven into his playful banter.
Kain shook his head. "I will hand Blake to you soon, but not yet. Timing is important."
Tara's eyes widened. Here she was, a poised and formidable senior officer, yet this young man seemed more concerned with a minor cultist than with her admiration. She couldn't help but think he must be out of his mind.
"Hopeless straight man," Jayce muttered under his breath, suppressing a laugh. He had long since resolved to let his sister handle Kain's antics, and the thought alone brought him amusement.
"I acted rashly. My apologies," Kane said finally, bowing in acknowledgment. Though furious moments ago, he now recognized Kain's crucial role and the necessity of cooperation.
"I also owe an apology," Kain replied, calm and collected. He had played his part well, immersing himself fully in the confrontation. Kane had been caught unawares, but now that reason had returned, the exchange of words became mere formalities.
"Once I have Blake secured, I will hand him over to you," Kain continued, tone shifting back to business. He grasped Blake firmly and began leading him away.
"I will come with you," Jayce said immediately.
"Stay out of this," Kain's eyes flickered with a dangerous glint, sending a chill down Jayce's spine.
"Eldric Shade, come out and stretch," Kain commanded.
From the shadows behind him, a towering figure emerged: Barrett Ironhide, one of the renowned Five Vanguard Lords. His massive frame, bronzed skin, and formidable presence filled the space, amplifying the tension.
"Master, you don't want me to finish him off outright, do you?" Barrett rumbled, hefting his long spear, which shimmered with an otherworldly gleam.
"I want him to suffer," Kain replied instantly. "Do not kill him outright; leave a thread of life, just enough."
Barrett's eyes widened. "I… I can't do that!"
"Then I will call Quentin Meng," Kain said coldly. At the mention of this name, Barrett nodded frantically. "Fine! I'll ensure every strike is calculated, Master. I promise he will regret every instant!"
Blake's world collapsed. He was utterly powerless, the trap closing from all sides. Every scream, every desperate plea, fell on ears deaf to mercy.
A scream of unimaginable agony ripped through the night air, piercing hundreds of meters away. Even Kane and the others, far from the scene, could hear it—the sound of fear and suffering intertwined in a chilling symphony.
"What… what exactly has Kain done?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with dread. The night had become a crucible, and Kain its unchallenged master.