Draven stepped back toward the barrier.
He exhaled slowly.
Then released a strand of his mana the same way he had before—loose, unstructured, wild—letting it drift forward like a breath of air.
It brushed the barrier.
Nothing.
The surface, which had once shimmered faint silver, began to darken.
Purple bled outward from the point of contact.
Then black veins crept through it like ink dispersing in water.
They all saw it.
Aldric's expression shifted—subtle, but unmistakable.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "That doesn't look like it's opening for us again."
The barrier pulsed once—low and ominous.
Draven narrowed his eyes and tried again, pushing more mana forward.
This time the surface reacted violently.
A ripple detonated outward.
The color deepened into a suffocating violet-black, humming low—like something waking from a long, restless sleep.
Aldric exhaled sharply through his nose.
"So it adapted."
He rolled his shoulders, tension settling into his frame.
"If the polite way doesn't work, we break it."
Mana flared around him—controlled, dense, crackling with faint arcs of violet-red lightning.
He drew his arm back.
The air around his fist distorted, bending under the pressure.
Then—
BOOM.
His punch slammed into the barrier with a thunderous impact that shook the entire clearing.
The trees trembled violently.
Dust burst upward from the forest floor.
The shockwave rippled outward—
And the barrier did not move.
Not a crack.
Not a dent.
The echo of the impact rolled across the clearing like distant thunder.
The remaining black-robed figures froze mid-chant.
Heads snapped toward the sound.
"What was that—?"
"There—!"
They saw them.
Standing near the barrier's edge.
Unharmed.
Uninvited.
"How did they get in here?!"
"They're the ones who killed the others—!"
Draven stepped forward, irritation etched plainly across his face.
"Will you shut the hell up and open the damn thing already?" he said flatly. "We'll be on our way. We don't have time to get wrapped up in whatever nonsense you're trying to pull."
One of the robed figures let out a distorted, grating laugh.
"You won't be leaving."
The mana around the ritual circle intensified, black smoke twisting upward in spirals.
"It's too late for regrets now. The summoning is nearly complete."
He spread his arms wide.
"And you… are perfect sacrifices."
His laughter echoed, warped and stretched by the ritual's resonance.
Draven pressed his lips into a thin line.
Under his breath, he muttered—
"Idiotic bastard."
His eyes lifted slowly, irritation hardening into something sharper.
"I don't have time for this."
Aldric clicked his tongue and turned his head slightly.
"This," he said calmly, "is why I hate them."
Mana flickered faintly around his fingers once more.
"They remind me of the Holy Empire fanatics. Same blind devotion. Same madness in their eyes."
He glanced toward the chanting figures.
"They call it faith."
Behind them, the barrier pulsed again.
Darker.
Heavier.
From within the ritual circle, something began pressing against the fabric of reality itself—the air warping and bending inward as if something massive were forcing its way through from the other side.
The ground trembled.
Draven's irritation vanished.
His expression turned cold.
"…Fine."
Mana folded tighter inside him.
Pain flared sharply through his body—constant, burning—but he ignored it.
"If they won't open it…"
His gaze locked onto the growing distortion.
"Then I'll tear it apart."
The purple-black barrier pulsed again.
And from the circle—
A crack split the air like breaking glass.
Draven didn't move toward the cultists.
Didn't even spare them a glance.
He turned back to the barrier.
His jaw tightened.
Multiple strands of mana slipped from his core—thin at first, then thicker—twisting together like coiling cords. Wild. Unrefined. Violent.
They wrapped around his arm.
Condensed.
Compressed.
His fist trembled beneath the density of it.
He stepped forward—
And swung.
BOOM.
His punch collided with the barrier, the impact detonating through the clearing. The ground fractured beneath his feet, cracks spiderwebbing outward. The air snapped in a concussive blast that flattened grass and sent debris flying.
The barrier rippled.
Deep violet waves rolled across its surface like storm-tossed water.
But it held.
Not a fracture.
Not even a flicker.
A black-robed mage burst into shrill laughter.
"You still don't understand?" he sneered. "It won't break. It's no longer sustained by ordinary mana."
The ritual circle behind him flared darker, the symbols glowing with a sickly, abyssal light.
"It is fed by demonic energy now."
The air thickened, heavy and oppressive.
The barrier pulsed in response—black veins spreading wider, branching across its surface like living rot.
Draven's face twisted in frustration.
"…God damn it."
He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
"I shouldn't have touched it," he muttered. "Should've just gone around."
His eyes flicked toward the ritual, then back to the barrier.
"What the hell was I thinking…"
Now they were locked in.
Trapped inside.
Forced to deal with these lunatics.
His irritation simmered, dangerously close to boiling over again.
He glanced toward Vaelith.
"Stay back."
Her expression didn't change.
"Yes, my lord."
Both babies remained asleep in her arms, undisturbed by the shockwaves, the chanting, or the oppressive pressure in the air.
She stepped back calmly.
A crimson sigil unfolded beneath her feet, intricate lines spreading outward with geometric precision.
A translucent red barrier rose around her—smooth, layered, reinforced—sealing her and the children safely within.
Another demonic pulse rolled outward from the ritual.
Stronger this time.
Aldric exhaled slowly.
"So brute force isn't enough," he murmured. "It's anchored to the summoning."
The barrier throbbed in rhythm with the ritual circle.
Like a heartbeat.
Something on the other side pressed harder.
The mages resumed chanting—louder now, more frantic, their voices cracking as the distortion widened.
Draven stared at the barrier.
The frustration faded from his face.
Replaced by something colder.
Something calculating.
"…Powered by demonic energy, huh."
Mana stirred inside him again—but this time it didn't explode outward.
It folded inward.
Condensed deeper.
Sharper.
More precise.
"If that's what it's feeding on…"
His eyes darkened, the air around him growing unnaturally still.