Chapter 135 - HA 135

Chapter 771 - Sanctum

Irina slowed her pace as they approached the museum, her hazel eyes lighting up with anticipation. The Stellamare Museum, though modest in size, stood proudly with its clean stone facade and intricate carvings of suns and mountains decorating its pillars. She glanced over her shoulder at Astron, her earlier frustration fading as her excitement bubbled to the surface.

"This place," she began, her voice carrying a sense of awe, "isn't just another museum. It's a connection to something far more extraordinary."

Astron raised an eyebrow, his sharp gray eyes flicking over the building. "A connection to what?"

"To Aurora Sanctum," Irina said, her tone reverent. "A place shrouded in mystery and ancient traditions, far to the west, deep in the Targorian mountain range. It's unlike anything governed by the Valeria Federation or any other known power."

Astron's expression remained calm, but Irina could tell he was listening intently. She continued, gesturing toward the museum as they stepped closer. "Aurora Sanctum is a nation that feels more like a legend than a real place. The people there—the Solarians—revere the sun as a deity. They believe it's the source of all purity, enlightenment, and divine power. Their entire society revolves around that belief, and they've developed customs and hierarchies that we can't even begin to understand."

"And this museum?" Astron asked, his gaze sweeping over the entrance.

"It was founded by people who've had the rare privilege of visiting Aurora Sanctum or establishing relations with them," Irina explained. "There's a special exhibit here—artifacts, writings, and even replicas of their sacred items. It's not much, but it's the closest most of us will ever get to understanding that place."

She paused, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "The Aurora Sanctum isn't a place anyone can just decide to visit. Even the most powerful states under the federation can't dictate terms to them. They're completely self-governed, and isolated, and they only allow outsiders in under very specific circumstances. Most of what we know about them comes from the few who've been invited—or the even rarer few who returned with their lives and memories intact."

Astron glanced at her, his interest piqued. "And why does this museum matter to you?"

Irina's expression softened, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought. "Because it's proof that there are still wonders in this world—things we don't fully understand, places that remain untouched by all the chaos and greed out here. The Aurora Sanctum represents a kind of purity, a way of life that's entirely their own. And even if this museum is small, even if it's just a glimpse into that world, it's still worth preserving."

They reached the entrance, where a modest plaque engraved with golden lettering read:

Stellamare Museum

Dedicated to the History, Culture, and Mysteries of Aurora Sanctum

Astron's calm gray eyes flicked toward Irina, a faint glimmer of amusement dancing in them. "You got all of that from Julia, didn't you?" he said, his tone more observational than accusatory.

Irina coughed, looking away toward the plaque as if suddenly fascinated by its engraving. "I… may have discussed it with her," she admitted, though she quickly straightened, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. "But that doesn't mean I'm not genuinely interested in Aurora Sanctum. It's such a mysterious place, you know? Their traditions, their isolation, even their devotion to the sun—it's all so… different. I just wonder what it's really like there."

Astron remained silent, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. Sensing his pause, she turned back to him, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly. "What about you?" she asked, tilting her head. "Do you know anything about Aurora Sanctum?"

He shook his head slowly. "Not much more than you already mentioned. Just that it's a secluded place, difficult to reach, and the people there are highly protective of their way of life. But…" He hesitated briefly before adding, "I've heard there are some strong individuals among them."

Irina rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Of course there are strong individuals. If they didn't have the strength to back it up, the Valeria Federation would've crushed them ages ago. You think they'd just let a place like that 'govern itself' without reason?"

Astron shrugged, his expression neutral. "True enough."

With that, the two stepped through the museum's arched entrance. The air inside was cool and filled with the faint hum of murmured voices. Displays lined the walls, each carefully curated to highlight different aspects of Aurora Sanctum's culture. Artifacts rested on pedestals beneath protective glass, and large plaques offered detailed explanations in elegant lettering.

As they moved further inside, Irina's gaze darted from one display to the next, her earlier frustration melting away into genuine fascination. The serene environment was almost meditative—until a cheerful voice interrupted their quiet.

"Hello there! Welcome to the Stellamare Museum!"

A young woman in a neat, modest uniform approached them, her bright smile suggesting she was accustomed to greeting curious visitors. "Are you here for the self-guided tour, or would you like a guide? We offer a volunteer service where our guides can walk you through the exhibits and share some additional insights. It's all tip-based, so there's no set fee."

Irina glanced around, noticing several other guides already speaking to small groups of visitors scattered throughout the museum. The sight reminded her of other tourist-heavy locations she'd visited—where such volunteer services were common, if not expected.

She turned back to the guide, her tone polite but firm. "We'll take a guide. If we're going to be here, we might as well get the full experience."

The woman's smile widened. "Wonderful! Let me just grab my notes, and I'll show you around."

Irina glanced at Astron, who merely gave a small nod, his expression unchanged. The guide quickly retrieved a small booklet and gestured for them to follow.

"This way, please," she said brightly. "We'll start with the history of Aurora Sanctum and its founding myths. It's truly fascinating, I promise!"

As they followed, Irina leaned slightly toward Astron, whispering, "She seems enthusiastic."

Astron's gaze followed the guide for a moment before he leaned slightly toward Irina, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. "She's trying to impress us. That's essentially how this works."

Irina raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. "Trying to impress us? You mean for the tip?"

He nodded slightly. "Exactly. She'll make as much effort as she can, sharing detailed insights and going above and beyond. If we don't tip at the end of the tour, she can still use the situation to 'guilt trip' us—or, in other words, play on our conscience."

Irina blinked, her lips twitching into a smirk as she considered his analysis. "What if we're ruthless?" she asked, her voice low but tinged with amusement.

"Then it's a pity," Astron replied evenly. "Her day will be ruined because of that, most likely."

Irina chuckled softly, her hazel eyes darting toward the guide, who was busy flipping through her notes a few steps ahead. "Is it just observation again?"

"It's just observation indeed," Astron said, his tone nonchalant. "It doesn't take much to understand motivation when it's this transparent."

Irina rolled her eyes, though her smirk remained. "And here I thought you were just being cynical."

"Not cynical," he corrected, his gaze steady. "Practical. If she does her job well, she deserves the tip. If not, she'll have to reflect on why."

Irina hummed thoughtfully, a hint of mischief sparking in her expression. "So, what you're saying is, we're her test today?"

"Call it what you like," Astron said calmly, his focus shifting back to the guide as she turned to address them.

"Are you both ready?" the woman asked brightly, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"Ready as we'll ever be," Irina replied, glancing at Astron with a teasing glint in her eye.

The guide smiled and gestured toward a large display depicting a carved sun surrounded by intricate golden patterns. "We'll start here with the founding myths of Aurora Sanctum. The Solarians believe the sun is a divine force, and their entire society revolves around its worship. Let me explain…"

As the guide began her detailed explanation, Irina leaned slightly closer to Astron, whispering just loud enough for him to hear, "Let's see if she earns that tip."

Astron's lips twitched faintly, the closest thing to a smirk she'd get from him. "We'll see."

The tour began with the guide leading Irina and Astron to the large display of the carved sun. The intricate golden patterns shimmered faintly under the museum lights, giving the piece an almost ethereal glow.

"The Solarians believe the sun is the ultimate source of purity and enlightenment," the guide began, her tone animated yet reverent. "It's not just a deity to them—it's the very foundation of their existence. Every ritual, every celebration, every law they have ties back to the sun's cycles. This carving is a replica of what they call the Radiant Crest, a sacred artifact housed in their capital, Radiant Citadel."

Irina tilted her head, studying the detailed patterns. "The Radiant Crest… what does it do?"

The guide smiled, clearly pleased by the question. "It's said to be a focus for their divine energy, used in ceremonies to connect the people to the sun's power. The original is made from a rare metal known as solarite, which supposedly absorbs and amplifies sunlight."

Astron's sharp gray eyes flicked to the carving. "A focus for divine energy—or perhaps an advanced form of mana manipulation," he mused softly.

The guide hesitated for a moment, her smile faltering slightly at his pragmatic tone. "Well, the Solarians would certainly call it divine," she said, recovering quickly. "But yes, it's possible there's a more practical, magical explanation. Much of what we know about their artifacts comes from merchants or high-ranked Awakened who've had brief interactions with Aurora Sanctum."

As they moved deeper into the museum, the guide led them to a display of weapons mounted on the wall. Each weapon was crafted with an elegant yet unfamiliar style—blades with sunburst motifs, bows with strings that shimmered like threads of sunlight, and shields etched with intricate geometric patterns.

"These are replicas of Solarian weapons," the guide explained, gesturing to the display. "Their artistry is unmistakable. The Solarians incorporate their reverence for the sun into every aspect of their lives, including their weaponry. See the grooves along the blade of this sword? It's designed to reflect and channel sunlight, blinding opponents during combat."

Irina's hazel eyes sparkled with fascination as she leaned closer to examine the details. "That's… beautiful. Even their weapons are like works of art."

The guide nodded enthusiastically. "Indeed. It's said that every Solarian weapon is crafted with precision and care, and many are infused with solarite to enhance their effectiveness."

Astron's gaze lingered on the shield. "Artistic, but functional," he remarked. "They're not just for display. These designs suggest practical application in combat."

The guide brightened at his observation. "Exactly! The Solarians are known for blending form and function seamlessly. Their weapons are as deadly as they are beautiful."

They moved on to a series of glass cases containing smaller artifacts—pendants, ceremonial masks, and scrolls filled with intricate calligraphy. The guide pointed to a particularly ornate pendant shaped like a sunburst, its center a radiant yellow gem.

"This is a replica of a Solarian talisman," she said. "These are believed to protect the wearer from darkness and corruption, both physically and spiritually."

Irina reached out, her fingers hovering just above the glass. "So much of their culture seems centered on light and purity. I wonder what they think of places that don't revere the sun."

It was just a question….

At least it looked so.

But Irina asked it not without a reason.

'Something…..Why does this feel like it?'

Something.

She felt it.

Chapter 718 - Sanctum (2)

Irina's question lingered in the air, her hazel eyes studying the guide intently. For a moment, the guide's smile faltered, as though she were weighing her response, but then she recovered with practiced ease.

"Well," the guide began, her tone steady and measured, "it is said that the Solarians came from another world through the cracks in space in the time of the Nexus of Convergence. In their original world, their religion was the primary faith of the Holy Church—a vast and powerful institution."

Irina blinked, her curiosity piqued. "Another world? So they're… not from here originally?"

The guide nodded. "That's correct. According to the fragments of records we've pieced together, the Solarians believe they were guided to this world by their deity, the sun. For them, the cracks in the space at the time of The Nexus of Convergence are thought to be some form of divine or mystical gateway, but the specifics are shrouded in mystery."

Astron remained silent, his sharp gray eyes focused on the guide as she continued.

"What's fascinating," the guide added, "is that despite their deeply rooted faith and traditions, most sculptures and records from Awakened who've visited Aurora Sanctum suggest the Solarians are remarkably welcoming. They accept visitors of all races and beliefs, provided they adhere to the rules of their land. It seems they prioritize harmony over exclusion."

Irina frowned slightly, her thoughts turning inward. 'Welcoming, huh? That doesn't quite match the picture of an isolated and self-sufficient society.' She crossed her arms, leaning closer to the display case containing the sunburst talisman. "If they're so welcoming, why isolate themselves so completely? Why not share their traditions more openly?"

The guide chuckled softly, her expression thoughtful. "That's a question many have asked, but there's no definitive answer. Perhaps they view their isolation as a way to preserve their purity and way of life. Or maybe they see the outside world as too chaotic to risk full integration. Whatever the reason, it seems to work for them."

Irina hummed thoughtfully, glancing at Astron. His calm expression offered no hint of his thoughts, but she had the distinct feeling he was dissecting every word.

The guide gestured for them to follow her to the next section. "Now, if you'll come this way, we'll look at some of the artifacts inspired by Solarian artistry. While the originals are closely guarded in the Sanctum, many craftsmen and artists have tried to replicate their designs. These pieces offer a glimpse into their style and creativity."

They entered a gallery lined with artifacts, each displayed on a pedestal beneath soft lighting. A sun-themed ceremonial mask, a gilded chalice with intricate solar motifs, and an ornate dagger with a curved, shimmering blade were among the items showcased.

"This mask," the guide said, pointing to the sun-themed artifact, "is a recreation of the ceremonial masks used during the Solarian solstice festivals. Each mask is said to represent a different aspect of their deity's light—guidance, protection, renewal."

Irina tilted her head, examining the mask. "It's intricate, but there's a simplicity to it too. Like they didn't want to overdo the design."

"Exactly," the guide agreed. "The Solarians believe in balance. Their creations are meant to be beautiful, but also practical. The balance between form and function is a recurring theme in their culture."

They moved to the dagger next, and the guide gestured to the blade's subtle curve and radiant sheen.

"This dagger," the guide continued, gesturing toward the elegant weapon, "is a replica of a piece originally crafted by Elarion Talsi, a renowned Solarian artisan from Radiant Citadel. Elarion was known not just for his remarkable skill but for his philosophy: that weapons and artifacts should embody the ideals of the culture they represent. For the Solarians, this meant a perfect balance between beauty, functionality, and their reverence for the sun."

Irina leaned closer, her hazel eyes tracing the intricate etchings along the blade's edge. "So, this isn't just a weapon—it's a statement."

"Exactly," the guide said with a nod. "Elarion's work wasn't about mass production or practicality in isolation. He saw each piece as a reflection of Solarian values. The solarite alloy, the delicate curve of the blade, even the etchings of sunbursts—they're all carefully chosen to represent precision, harmony, and the light of their deity."

Astron's gaze flicked between the dagger and the guide. "And you said this design inspired a movement?"

The guide smiled, clearly pleased by the question. "It did. While it wasn't a complete revolution, Elarion's work opened a new perspective in the fields of artifact creation and magic engineering. His designs demonstrated that functionality didn't have to come at the cost of artistry. In fact, he argued that the two should enhance each other."

She gestured to a nearby plaque, which featured a sketch of Elarion alongside notes from his journals. "For instance, this dagger inspired many artisans beyond the borders of Aurora Sanctum to experiment with solarite and other rare materials. It also pushed them to consider the cultural significance of their creations. What message does an artifact send? How can its design reflect its purpose and the values of its creator? These were questions Elarion encouraged artisans to ask."

Irina tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "Interesting…..So, in his view, it wasn't just about making things look nice. It was about infusing them with meaning."

The guide nodded. "Precisely. And while Elarion's influence didn't completely reshape artifact creation, it left a lasting impression. Many modern artisans and magic engineers draw inspiration from his philosophy, even if they don't have access to the same materials or techniques."

Astron's sharp gray eyes remained on the dagger as the guide spoke. "Solarite seems central to this philosophy. Without it, would the movement have had the same impact?"

The guide paused, considering his question. "That's difficult to say. Solarite is unique—its ability to absorb and amplify sunlight gives Solarian artifacts their distinct character. Without it, Elarion's designs might not have carried the same weight. But his ideas about balance, symbolism, and craftsmanship? Those resonate far beyond the material."

Irina glanced at Astron, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "It's kind of like your observation thing. Knowing where to look, what details matter most."

Astron didn't reply immediately, but then he replied with a simple tone. "Perhaps."

The guide led them to another display case, this one containing a series of smaller artifacts—rings, pendants, and even tools. Each piece bore the unmistakable influence of Solarian artistry, with sun motifs, elegant lines, and subtle enchantments that glimmered faintly under the display lights.

"These," the guide said, "are examples of how Elarion's philosophy trickled down into everyday life. While not everyone in Aurora Sanctum could wield a weapon or create grand artifacts, they could still carry pieces that reflected their values. These items show how deeply their culture is intertwined with their craftsmanship."

Irina studied the pieces, her mind buzzing with questions. "It's incredible how much thought they put into every detail. Even the smallest items feel… significant."

The guide smiled. "That's the power of their philosophy. Elarion believed that even the most ordinary objects could hold extraordinary meaning if created with care and intention."

Irina glanced at Astron again, her eyes alight with curiosity. "So, what do you think? Does all this balance and symbolism mean anything to you?"

Astron's sharp gray eyes lingered on the display for a moment before he finally spoke, his tone calm and even. "It reminds me of something…"

His words hung in the air, simple yet laden with an unspoken weight. He didn't elaborate, his gaze flicking to the ornate artifacts once more before turning away, as if the thought didn't warrant further reflection.

Irina, however, froze. Her hazel eyes widened slightly, and a faint chill ran down her spine as his words stirred a memory buried deep in her mind. Something…

Estelle.

The name surfaced in her thoughts, unbidden but undeniable. It was from the dream—or was it a vision?—the fragments she'd glimpsed when she had somehow seen pieces of Astron's past. A younger Astron, his purple eyes filled with a light that had long since dimmed, standing in a village surrounded by unfamiliar yet hauntingly intricate symbols.

Her gaze darted back to the artifacts in the case. The sunbursts, the balance between form and function, the deliberate precision in every curve and line—it was all eerily similar to the markings she had seen in that vision.

The symbols on the homes of his village… They looked like this. Not identical, but close. Too close to ignore.

Her heart quickened as she traced the lines of the artifacts with her eyes, piecing together fragments of a memory that felt both distant and urgent. Is this connected somehow? Was that place tied to Aurora Sanctum? Or… was it something even older, something lost?

Irina clenched her fists slightly, a mix of curiosity and unease swirling in her chest. She glanced at Astron, who now stood silently, his expression as unreadable as ever. He had said so little, and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that he had noticed the same resemblance—or perhaps he had already dismissed it as insignificant.

Does he remember? she wondered, her lips pressing into a thin line. Does he know what these symbols mean, or is it just a coincidence?

The guide's voice broke her train of thought, cheerfully leading them to the next display. Irina forced herself to follow, nodding occasionally at the explanations, but her mind remained elsewhere, caught between the fragments of Astron's past and the mysteries of Aurora Sanctum.

She didn't say a word about her realization. Not yet. There were too many questions and not enough answers, and she doubted Astron would be eager to discuss something so personal in the middle of a museum tour.

But as they moved through the exhibits, her curiosity only deepened. This can't just be a coincidence, she thought, stealing another glance at Astron. I'll figure it out. Eventually.

Irina's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, piecing together fragments of memory and possibility as she moved through the museum. Her gaze occasionally drifted to Astron, his calm demeanor an anchor amid her swirling doubts.

'Could he know? Or is it just me chasing shadows?' she wondered, her fingers idly brushing against a nearby exhibit.

Then something happened!

Chapter 719 - The Attack (1)

On the market side, the artifact that the vendor named Jihan had activated began to hum faintly, its mana pulsing as it analyzed the couple. Invisible to the untrained eye, a web of detection magic expanded outward, scanning for the presence of enchantments. Moments later, the artifact flared briefly before settling back into its dormant state, the signal it sent out discreet but unmistakable.

Far from the market, in a concealed location where the operatives coordinated their efforts, a receiver lit up. A faint glow spread across its surface, and the encrypted signal was processed instantly. The room buzzed with quiet efficiency as one of the operatives studied the data, his eyes widening.

"Leader, we've got confirmation," he said, his voice steady but charged with urgency. "The artifact just flagged a high-level enchantment on a female target in the marketplace. Based on the signature, it's a disguise artifact."

The team leader, Rovan Kael, turned sharply, his expression darkening. He was a seasoned operative, known for his precision and ruthlessness, and this mission was personal for him. Failure was not an option.

"Are the targets still in the area?" Rovan asked, his voice calm but firm.

"Yes, sir," the operative replied. "The pair is still moving through the market, but based on their trajectory and behavior, they match the intel we received. All other subjects have been cleared—this is our couple."

Rovan nodded, his mind already spinning through the next steps. "Good. Maintain observation but keep your distance. If the enchantment is active, there's no doubt it's them. We'll follow their lead."

Back in the marketplace, the operatives began converging discreetly on the confirmed targets. Astron and Irina moved through the bustling streets with practiced ease, their movements calm and unhurried. To the untrained eye, they appeared like any other couple—a man and a woman casually exploring the market. But to the team, the subtle signs were unmistakable.

"They're heading east," one of the operatives reported through his communicator. "Looks like they're making their way out of the market district."

"Keep eyes on them," Rovan ordered. "If the intel is accurate, they'll be heading to the Stellamere Museum. Make sure they don't slip out of sight."

The team moved with precision, shadowing the couple from multiple angles. High-grade artifacts concealed their presence, ensuring that neither Astron's heightened awareness nor Irina's sharp instincts would detect them.

As the pair exited the marketplace and began walking toward the outskirts of the city, the operatives maintained their formation, reporting every movement back to Rovan.

"They're on the main road to the museum," another operative confirmed. "Estimated arrival time, twenty minutes."

Rovan activated his communicator, his voice cutting through the network. "Alert the agents we've stationed at the Stellamere Museum. Targets are confirmed—Irina Emberheart and Astron Natusalune. They're en route."

At the museum, a team of agents received the alert. Situated discreetly within the museum's staff and visitors, they had been planted there days in advance, ready for this exact scenario. The museum was a sprawling, ancient structure with high ceilings, shadowed alcoves, and winding corridors—a perfect stage for the ambush.

"We've got confirmation," one of the agents said, speaking into a concealed communicator. "Targets are inbound. Irina Emberheart and Astron Natusalune. All units, prepare for action."

The agents began their preparations, activating artifacts and securing key positions throughout the museum. High-grade cloaking devices ensured they remained undetected, while suppression artifacts were placed strategically to neutralize any unexpected magical outbursts.

Back on the road, Rovan received the updates with satisfaction. His team had done their part perfectly, and now, everything was falling into place.

"Remember," he said to his operatives, his tone steely, "we're dealing with Irina Emberheart. She's not just another target—she's a walking arsenal. And that boy with her, Astron… while it appears that the young man is not of a strong background, he can't be someone casual if he is with Irina Emberheart. Don't underestimate him too much either. We strike only when we're certain they have no way out. No mistakes."

The operatives acknowledged the order, their focus unwavering as they continued to tail the pair. Every step brought them closer to the museum—and to the moment they had been preparing for.

The Stellamere Museum loomed large, its ancient stone façade bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Inside, the vast halls were a mix of shadow and light, the high ceilings creating an almost reverent atmosphere as visitors moved quietly through the exhibits. Among them, Irina and Astron followed a guide, their steps measured as they wandered through the displays.

The guide was a middle-aged woman with a polished demeanor, her tone professional and her knowledge of the exhibits impeccable. She pointed out artifacts with enthusiasm, explaining the significance of each with a depth that even caught Irina's interest.

"And here," the guide said, gesturing toward a glass-encased relic, "we have a ceremonial blade from the early Dominion period. Notice the intricate carvings along the hilt—they represent the phases of the moon, believed to grant the wielder clarity of thought."

The Stellamere Museum maintained its quiet dignity, its stone walls and towering exhibits bearing witness to centuries of history. Visitors moved about in hushed tones, adding to the reverent atmosphere. Among them, Irina and Astron were entirely unaware of the silent storm brewing around them.

The agents executed their operations with flawless precision. Concealed by high-grade cloaking artifacts, their presence was undetectable.

They moved into preassigned positions, their fire-resistant armor blending seamlessly under their uniforms.

Suppression artifacts, placed strategically throughout the museum, would create a web of mana disruption, ensuring that any attempt to unleash powerful magic would be stifled.

Rovan Kael, stationed in a concealed alcove above the central gallery, observed the scene with cold, calculating eyes. His operatives' movements were smooth, disciplined, and coordinated. This is perfect, he thought. They have no idea what's coming.

Irina and Astron wandered through the museum, their steps leisurely as the guide led them through another section. Astron's posture remained relaxed, though his sharp eyes occasionally scanned their surroundings. Irina, on the other hand, was absorbed in the guide's explanations, and her interest in the ancient artifacts was genuine.

"And this," the guide continued, gesturing toward a grand display case, "is a ceremonial staff used by the Dominion's early seers. It was believed to amplify foresight magic, allowing the user to glimpse into potential futures."

Irina leaned slightly closer to examine the staff, her hazel eyes narrowing in thought. Astron stood a step behind her, his hands loosely at his sides. To any onlooker, they appeared like a couple enjoying a quiet outing. But to the trained eyes of Rovan and his team, their behavior was carefully analyzed, and their strengths and weaknesses assessed.

"They're in position," one of the agents murmured through the communicator. "Central gallery, northeast wing."

Rovan's voice crackled through the communication network, calm and commanding. "Good. This is our moment. All units, get into final positions. On my mark, we strike. Do not underestimate Irina Emberheart. The boy is secondary—take him down if he resists."

wenty-five operatives surrounded the gallery, their formations tightening as they prepared for the assault. Among them were five masters, elite hunters of the highest rank, whose presence was overkill even for a target like Irina. Every operative was equipped with fire-resistant armor and enchanted weapons designed to counteract Irina's flame-based abilities.

The intelligence they had gathered ensured they were prepared for nearly every contingency. They knew Irina was a walking arsenal, capable of wielding fire magic with devastating precision. They knew Astron was a skilled dagger and bow user, though they dismissed him as less of a threat compared to his companion. He's good, but he's not a professional, Rovan thought. This will end quickly.

Rovan's voice cut through the silence of the communicators. "Now."

The attack began with ruthless precision. Suppression fields surged to full power, the air around Irina and Astron growing heavy with mana disruption. Hidden panels in the walls and ceiling opened, and the operatives emerged from their concealed positions, their movements swift and coordinated.

The air had grown subtly heavy, a faint shift that might have gone unnoticed by most, but not by Astron. His sharp gray eyes flickered with an almost imperceptible change, a glimmer of heightened awareness. Something was wrong.

Irina, absorbed in examining the intricate carvings on the ceremonial staff, didn't sense it. Her focus was entirely on the artifact as she murmured, "It's incredible how they infused their beliefs into even the smallest details…"

Astron's muscles tensed, his head turning slightly as his heightened senses caught the faintest vibration in the air—a telltale sign of mana gathering in the distance. His instincts screamed danger.

"Down!" he barked, his voice sharp and commanding.

Before Irina could register his words, he moved. With inhuman speed, his body surged with mana, his movements precise and fluid. His figure blurred for a split second as he closed the gap between them. In one swift motion, he tackled her to the ground, his body covering hers protectively.

BOOM!

The explosion ripped through the gallery with a deafening roar, the shockwave tearing through the air like a physical force. Glass cases shattered into thousands of jagged shards, artifacts toppled from their pedestals, and the ground beneath them trembled violently.

Smoke and debris filled the air, the acrid stench of burnt materials stinging Irina's nostrils as she struggled to catch her breath. The weight of Astron's body pinned her to the ground, shielding her from the worst of the blast. Even so, she felt the force of the explosion reverberate through her bones, leaving her momentarily disoriented.

Her ears rang as she coughed, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. "Astron—what—?"

"Stay down," he ordered, his tone clipped but calm, his sharp gray eyes scanning their surroundings.

His presence was solid and grounding, his body emanating a faint, almost imperceptible glow as residual mana coursed through him. He had acted in an instant, faster than even most trained Awakened could have managed. Irina realized with a jolt of clarity that he had saved her from taking the full brunt of the explosion.

The gallery was in chaos. Smoke billowed around them, distorting the figures of operatives as they moved into position. Their cloaking devices shimmered faintly in the haze, giving them a ghostly, spectral appearance. Suppression artifacts hummed ominously, their fields thickening the air and making mana manipulation increasingly difficult.

Irina's hazel eyes darted around, her instincts finally kicking in as the reality of the ambush sank in. "Astron, what's going on? Who—?"

"Ambush."

It was an ambush.

Chapter 720 - The Attack (2)

Irina exhaled slowly, her body steadying as she forced the chaos out of her mind. Smoke swirled around her, debris clattering to the floor, but her focus remained unshaken. She was an Emberheart, heir to one of the strongest families in the world. She had faced danger before—and survived.

This was no different.

Her hazel eyes sharpened as she pushed herself up, her stance steady. Astron was already in front of her, his daggers drawn in a reverse grip, their edges gleaming faintly even in the dim, smoke-filled gallery. His disguise had vanished, revealing his striking purple eyes, glowing faintly with mana. It was a startling contrast to his usual calm demeanor, his aura now charged with quiet intensity.

Irina tried to summon her own mana, reaching for the familiar flames that always answered her call. Nothing. Her connection to her core felt distant, suppressed.

"They've laid out mana suppression fields," she murmured, her voice low and measured.

Astron glanced over his shoulder, nodding in acknowledgment. "Clever. Designed to weaken Awakened. They're trying to nullify your flames."

Irina's jaw tightened, her hazel eyes narrowing. 'Figures,' she thought bitterly. 'They came prepared.' She had faced suppression fields before, but this one was more sophisticated, more oppressive than most. It wasn't just limiting her mana—it felt like it was actively smothering her connection to it.

Astron's sharp gaze swept the room. "They're closing in. Twenty-five operatives, five elites. Fire-resistant armor. We're in their web."

Irina smirked faintly despite the situation. "You counted them already?"

He didn't reply, his focus already shifting to the approaching figures. The faint shimmer of cloaking devices in the haze made it clear that the operatives were professionals, moving in coordinated formations. Their presence exuded the calculated precision of hunters used to high-stakes missions.

Irina straightened, her fiery confidence returning despite the suppression fields. She might not have her flames, but she wasn't defenseless. Her eyes flicked to a shattered display case, where the fragments of a ceremonial dagger lay among the broken glass. With a quick, fluid motion, she grabbed the blade, testing its weight. Not ideal, but it would do.

Astron's voice broke through her thoughts, low and calm. "Can you fight without mana?"

Irina inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling as she forced herself to steady her mind. Her pride—normally a cornerstone of her demeanor—was not what mattered now. If she allowed it to blind her, it would only hold her back. This was not the time for bravado or stubbornness; this was survival.

Her grip on the ceremonial dagger tightened as she met Astron's steady gaze. "No," she said simply, her voice firm and resolute. "I can't fight like this."

Astron nodded once, his purple eyes gleaming in the dim, smoke-filled gallery. His gaze held none of the condescension she might have feared before, only sharp focus and acknowledgment. "Good," he said, his voice low but decisive. "That makes this clear. My main objective is getting you out of here."

Irina stiffened slightly but forced herself to stay calm. "What about you?"

His expression didn't change. "I'll handle what I can, but don't try to play hero. Your job is to survive. No matter what happens, you stick to that."

Irina felt her jaw tighten, her pride bristling for a fleeting moment before she crushed it down. His words weren't meant to belittle her—they were logical, brutally so. The field suppressing her flames was crippling, and in her current state, she wasn't at full strength. Astron's abilities were far less reliant on mana, making him the better combatant in these conditions.

Her hazel eyes flickered with reluctant acceptance. "Fine. But if you think I'm just going to cower behind you—"

"I don't," he interrupted, his tone sharp but calm. "But your survival comes first. They're targeting you. Use that brain of yours and stay one step ahead. Let me do the rest."

Irina hesitated, then nodded. "Alright," she said, her voice quieter but no less resolute. "I'll trust you."

"Good," Astron replied, already turning his attention back to the approaching operatives. His daggers glinted faintly in the low light, their edges sharp and poised for action. "Stay close."

And then in an instant, he took out something from his spatial bracelet.

FOOOSH!

It was a device.

'A smokescreen?'

Just as the attackers were using the smoke as a measure of attack, Astron did the same. Smoke started rising all around covering everyone's vision.

TAP! TAP!

The air around them thickened, the oppressive silence broken only by the faint hum of suppression fields and the distant crackle of debris settling. Irina's grip tightened on the ceremonial dagger as shadows emerged from the smoke—silent, calculating figures moving with predatory intent.

Four operatives closed in, their weapons glinting faintly in the dim light. Irina felt her heartbeat quicken. They weren't rushing in recklessly; their movements were methodical, and coordinated, like a pack of wolves circling their prey.

"Target found," one of them muttered, his voice carrying a cold certainty as his eyes locked onto Irina. She shifted her stance, preparing herself, but even as she moved, she realized something strange.

Where is Astron?

In that split second, she lost track of him. Her sharp senses, trained through years of combat and intense training, couldn't pinpoint his presence. It was as though he had vanished completely, swallowed by the smoke and shadows.

The operatives moved closer, confident in their advantage. One raised his weapon, a sleek, enchanted blade designed to nullify defensive magic. Another pulled out a suppression baton, the faint hum of its enchantment crackling in the air.

Irina tensed, her mind racing. 'No flames, no mana. I'm cornered, but I can still—'

"Kurghk—!"

The sound shattered the oppressive quiet, a wet, choking noise that came from somewhere behind the operatives. One of them staggered forward, clutching his throat as blood sprayed from a precise slash across his neck. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud, his weapon clattering beside him.

"What the—?" one of the remaining operatives began, spinning around, but he barely had time to react before a dagger flashed through the haze, embedding itself into his chest. The man stumbled, gasping as the weapon's sharp edge pierced armor and flesh alike, before collapsing to his knees.

The remaining two operatives turned, their confidence evaporating as they tried to locate the source of the attack. But before they could act, a blur of motion materialized from the smoke.

Astron.

His movements were impossibly fast, almost inhuman, his figure a shadow among shadows. One moment, he was behind the nearest operative, and the next, his dagger was driving cleanly into the man's back, severing critical ligaments with clinical precision. The operative fell without a sound, his body hitting the ground like a rag doll.

The last man turned to face Astron, raising his suppression baton defensively, but the effort was futile. Astron sidestepped the swing with unnerving ease, his purple eyes glowing faintly with mana. His other dagger swept upward, slicing cleanly through the man's weapon arm. The operative screamed, dropping his baton as he stumbled backward.

Astron stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he drove his dagger into the man's chest with a channeled mana.

SPURT!

The sheer strength behind the attack was too much.

The chaos of the ambush spiraled to a fever pitch as the remaining 21 operatives advanced with ruthless precision. Some brandished enchanted blades, others readied suppression bows with arrows glimmering faintly in the dim light, while a few began channeling magic, their mana flaring in the haze.

The smoke-filled gallery pulsed with tension, the oppressive hum of suppression fields tightening the atmosphere. Irina stood her ground, her hazel eyes sharp despite the storm surrounding her, but her grip on the ceremonial dagger betrayed her frustration. Her flames—her greatest weapon—remained suppressed, leaving her vulnerable.

Astron, however, was far from deterred.

From the shadows, he saw the operatives converging, their focus unmistakably fixed on Irina. A cold clarity settled over him.

'They're targeting her,' he knew. 'All of them.'

Without hesitation, the shadows around him thickened, an unnatural darkness that seemed to pulse in time with his intent. His figure melted into the haze, the faint outline of his body consumed by the deep black tendrils of [Shadowborne].

In an instant, he vanished.

The first operative to reach Irina lunged with a curved blade, aiming for her unguarded side. Before the strike could connect, Astron emerged from the smoke, a dagger in hand, its edge glinting ominously.

THUNK!

The blade found its mark, embedding deep into the attacker's throat. The operative's body fell lifelessly to the ground before his comrades could react.

Astron didn't linger. Using the momentum of his leap, he landed in front of Irina, his daggers spinning into reverse grips as he prepared to hold the line. His shadow-cloaked figure exuded an aura of menace, his glowing purple eyes cutting through the haze like twin beacons of death.

"Stay behind me," he ordered, his voice low but firm.

Irina hesitated, her pride warring with practicality, but the growing tide of enemies left little room for argument. She nodded, adjusting her grip on the dagger and shifting into a defensive stance.

The operatives surged forward in unison, their weapons and spells creating a symphony of chaos. Arrows whistled through the air, crackling with suppression mana, while fireballs and bolts of icy energy illuminated the smoke in bursts of light.

Astron moved like a shadow come to life. He dodged an incoming arrow with a tilt of his head, his body twisting fluidly to evade a lunging blade. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled two daggers into the fray.

BOOM!

The daggers detonated midair, releasing a burst of concussive force that threw several operatives off balance. Smoke and debris swirled chaotically, the shockwave disorienting the attackers and creating a momentary opening.

"Cover your ears!" Astron barked as he reached into his spatial bracelet.

FOOOSH!

He unleashed another device—a smokescreen, denser and infused with mana. It rapidly engulfed the area, turning the already chaotic battlefield into a complete sensory void.

The operatives faltered, their vision obscured, but Astron moved with ease with Irina on his shoulder.

"Hold your breath."

And then he ordered.

Chapter 721 - The Attack (3)

Astron surged through the dense smoke, his legs powered by concentrated mana, every step a burst of speed. Irina lay silent across his shoulder, her weight insignificant compared to the oppressive suppression fields thickening the air. The din of chaos—the muffled shouts of operatives, the hum of enchantments, the crackle of suppression spells—pressed down on him as he navigated the labyrinthine halls of the museum.

'The smoke won't hold much longer,' he thought, his sharp gray eyes darting through the shifting haze. The operatives' equipment was already countering his smokescreen, faint glimmers of light and mana-sensing lenses cutting through the obscurity. Their voices grew louder, their movements more precise.

"Hold your breath," Astron had ordered earlier, and now he exhaled slowly, steadying his focus. His eyes flickered faintly with mana as he activated his perception ability. The museum's layered formation shimmered faintly in his vision, revealing the intricate threads of the suppression network.

Ahead, another squad of operatives emerged from the fog, their movements disciplined and coordinated. Their weapons glinted faintly, suppression runes etched along the blades and arrows, designed to disrupt and incapacitate.

"Block the exit!" one of them barked.

Astron's lips pressed into a thin line. He adjusted Irina's position slightly on his shoulder, her silence a testament to her understanding of the situation. She wasn't resisting; she knew he needed every ounce of focus to get them out alive.

The faint glow of the suppression field's knots pulsed in Astron's vision. His mind calculated quickly.

'If I can break those…'

Astron veered sharply to the left, his figure a blur as he sprinted toward a grand archway leading into another wing of the museum. Behind him, the operatives gave chase, their footsteps a thunderous rhythm against the stone floors. Suppression arrows zipped past, narrowly missing him, their mana-laden shafts embedding into walls and displays with sharp thunks.

He reached into his spatial bracelet, pulling out a dagger. Channeling mana into the blade, he hurled it toward the nearest knot in the formation—a faintly glowing point nestled in the wall near a display case.

BOOM!

The dagger detonated, shattering the knot and sending a shockwave through the network. The oppressive mana in the immediate area flickered briefly, the suppression weakening.

'Three more to go.'

But the operatives were relentless. Another squad emerged from an adjacent corridor, cutting off his path. They raised their weapons, and mana flared as they prepared to fire.

Astron's mind worked rapidly. He skidded to a halt, his sharp eyes scanning the area. To his right, a massive column extended to the ceiling, its base adorned with intricate carvings. Beyond it, the second knot shimmered faintly.

"Hang tight," he muttered under his breath, shifting Irina's weight.

Astron's mind raced as the operatives closed in, their weapons raised and shimmering with lethal intent. His sharp gaze darted to the hall's ceiling, supported by ornately carved pillars. Each structure gleamed faintly in his mana-imbued vision, revealing subtle weak points that he could exploit.

The suppressive weight of the surrounding mana surged as the operatives unleashed a coordinated attack. Bolts of energy, arrows, and enchantments rained down toward him in a torrent, a deadly storm aimed to pin him in place.

Astron gritted his teeth, his muscles coiling with anticipation. "[Shadowborne]." Shadows rippled across his body, coiling like tendrils as his speed surged beyond normal limits. In a blur, he dashed forward, weaving through the barrage with precision. Yet, he could feel Irina's weight affecting his ability to maneuver—he wouldn't be able to keep this up for long.

'This isn't sustainable,' he thought grimly. His mind clicked into gear, calculating a new strategy. One that required him to change tactics entirely.

He skidded to a halt behind a shattered display case, placing Irina down gently against its jagged remains. His purple eyes glowed faintly with mana as he turned to her.

"Stay low," he commanded, his voice calm but firm.

Irina blinked, her hazel eyes locking with his. "Astron—"

"Do you trust me?" His voice cut through the chaos, sharp and deliberate.

Irina's hesitation lasted barely a moment. "Yes," she replied, her voice steady despite the madness around them.

From his spatial location, he drew the [Celestalith], its sleek form materializing in his hand with a faint hum of energy. The weapon shimmered as it shifted, its form morphing seamlessly into a bow. The string of the weapon glowed faintly with a pulsing blue energy, emanating a cold, otherworldly light.

Irina's eyes widened as she watched him. This was the first time she had seen this weapon. 'What is this?'

She knew it was not the time to ask this, but she did subconsciously.

Astron wasted no time. Drawing back the bowstring, he summoned three arrows simultaneously, each one crackling with concentrated Lunar energy. He aimed with precision, his movements fluid and deliberate despite the chaos around him.

"Let's start clearing some space," he muttered under his breath.

TWANG!

The first set of arrows tore through the air, streaking toward three of the towering pillars. Each projectile struck its mark with unerring accuracy, exploding on impact with a surge of blue light.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The pillars shattered, their fragments raining down in a cascade of debris. The operatives nearest to them stumbled, their formation thrown into disarray as dust and rubble filled the air.

Without pausing, Astron nocked another three arrows, pulling the bowstring taut. His focus never wavered as he targeted the next set of pillars supporting the expansive ceiling.

TWANG!

The second volley flew with devastating speed, each arrow streaking toward its mark. More pillars collapsed under the explosive force, the structure above groaning ominously as the balance of the space shifted.

The operatives hesitated, their once-coordinated movements faltering as the battlefield tilted in Astron's favor. He didn't give them time to recover.

"Keep your head down!" he called to Irina, his voice cutting through the crumbling chaos.

She obeyed without hesitation, crouching low behind the debris while Astron loosed his final volley. The arrows shot forward, each glowing brighter than the last as he poured more mana into the attack.

TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!

The last three arrows struck the remaining load-bearing pillars, detonating with immense force. The ceiling above groaned and buckled, chunks of stone and beams collapsing onto the operatives below. Cries of alarm and the clang of falling debris echoed through the space as the team scrambled to avoid being crushed.

The battlefield fell silent for a moment, save for the sound of settling rubble. Astron straightened, the glow of his bow dimming as he turned to Irina. Dust and smoke swirled around them, obscuring the view of the operatives who had been chasing them.

"That should buy us some time," he said, his tone calm but edged with exhaustion.

Irina stood, brushing debris from the armor that she had conjured.

'Flames.'

As the dust began to settle, Irina stood cautiously, brushing debris from her armor. Her flames, usually a roaring source of her power, were suppressed, leaving her feeling unbalanced and vulnerable. But as she clenched her fists, trying to summon them again, she froze.

'Wait.'

Her hazel eyes flickered with realization, her mind racing. She could feel the familiar weight of suppression smothering her fire mana—but that wasn't all she had.

'What am I even doing?' The thought struck her like a bolt of lightning. She wasn't limited to her flames. Her mana wasn't just fire—it was hers. It was versatile, adaptable, and more than capable of finding another path.

Astron glanced over at her, his sharp purple eyes narrowing slightly. "What is it?" he asked, his tone calm but alert.

Irina didn't respond immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes, focusing on the flow of energy within her. The suppression fields were intricately designed to target elemental mana, particularly flame-based Awakened. But telekinesis? That was different.

Her eyes snapped open, a small, triumphant smile curling her lips. "They suppressed my flames," she said, her voice steady. "But they didn't suppress me."

Astron's expression didn't change, though his gaze sharpened. "Go on."

Irina extended her hands, her mana flaring—not as fire, but as pure force. Invisible threads of energy pulsed outward, gripping the scattered debris around her. Shattered stone and steel fragments trembled before rising into the air, suspended in her telekinetic hold.

"I've been relying on my flames too much," she admitted, her voice laced with determination. "But I'm not just fire. I'm better than that."

With a flick of her wrist, the debris launched forward, slamming into the remnants of the operatives' formation. The precision of her telekinesis was evident—each projectile moved with deliberate, deadly intent, targeting joints and weak points in their armor. The operatives scrambled to adjust, their once-coordinated movements thrown into disarray.

Astron watched, his lips twitching faintly as if in approval. "Good," he said, his tone steady. "You are adapting well."

Irina smirked, the challenge igniting something fierce within her. "Oh, I plan to do more."

She crouched low, her hands sweeping in controlled arcs as she manipulated the battlefield. Shards of glass and steel lifted around her, forming a swirling barrier that moved with her as she advanced. It wasn't just a defense—it was a weapon, striking at the operatives who dared approach.

"Then now…..Go….."

Irina straightened, her grip tightening on the swirling mass of debris orbiting her like a barrier. The dust and smoke from their chaotic battle hung thick in the air, the operatives adjusting their approach as they realized she wasn't a passive target anymore. Her hazel eyes gleamed with determination as she turned toward Astron.

"You're holding back because of me," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos around them.

Astron, still poised and ready, glanced at her sharply, his daggers glinting faintly in the dim light. "I'm making sure you survive,"—his voice calm yet firm—"not holding back."

Irina smirked faintly. "I'll survive. I'm not helpless, Astron. You said it yourself—I'm adapting."

The operatives began advancing again, their movements slower now as they assessed her capabilities. Irina flicked her hand, sending a shard of steel whistling through the air, striking one of the operatives squarely in the shoulder and forcing him back.

Astron remained silent, his sharp gaze locked on her. The hesitation in his stance, however slight, didn't go unnoticed.

She turned to him fully, stepping forward despite the press of enemies. "Do you not trust me, Astron?"

His expression didn't change, but the faintest flicker of something passed through his purple eyes. "I trust you," he said simply, his voice unwavering.

"Then go," she said, her tone resolute, mirroring his earlier command to her. She gestured sharply toward the shadows beyond the operatives. "You're faster on your own, and you'll cover more ground. Get to the next suppression knot."

Astron's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, searching for any sign of doubt or uncertainty. There was none. Irina's stance, her expression, and the fire—not literal, but unmistakable—burning in her eyes all spoke of unwavering resolve.

"Fine," he said, at last, his tone low and measured. "But don't overestimate them—or yourself."

"I won't," she replied, her smirk returning. "But don't you underestimate me either."

Astron gave the faintest shake of his head, his lips twitching into the barest hint of a smile. Without another word, his figure dissolved into the shadows, his presence vanishing as if he'd never been there.

'Now…..let me show you that I am more than just a flame sorcerer.'

She had picked up a thing or two in her spars with Astron as well.

Chapter 722 - The Attack (4)

The air thickened with tension as the operatives moved closer, their movements coordinated, weapons gleaming faintly under the suppressed glow of the room. Irina's hazel eyes scanned their formation, her sharp mind already calculating trajectories and counters. With her flames suppressed, she turned to the power she knew she could rely on—her [Telekinesis].

She exhaled sharply, focusing her mana. Invisible threads pulsed outward, gripping the shattered debris scattered around her. Broken stone, shards of glass, and fragments of steel trembled before rising into the air, orbiting her like a swarm of deadly satellites.

'This will have to do,' she thought grimly.

-Telekinesis

The first wave of attackers surged forward, their weapons raised. A suppression baton crackled as it swung toward her head, but Irina's hand flicked upward. A chunk of steel shot through the air, intercepting the blow with a resonant clang that sent the operative stumbling back.

Another lunged from the side, wielding an enchanted blade designed to pierce defensive barriers. Irina twisted her wrist, sending a slab of stone hurtling toward him. The impact struck his chest, knocking him off his feet and sending him sprawling to the ground.

The operatives hesitated for a split second, recalibrating their approach. Irina didn't wait for them to regroup. With a sharp motion, she launched the debris outward, each piece finding its mark with unnerving precision. One shard struck an attacker's knee, forcing him down, while another slammed into the chest of a second, cracking his armor.

-Body Enchantment

Even as her telekinesis created a defensive perimeter, Irina knew she couldn't rely on it alone. Her body was her last line of defense, and she wasn't going to be caught unprepared.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she reached inward, channeling her mana into her muscles and bones. Her limbs tingled with the familiar sensation of [Enhancement] magic taking hold. Her strength surged, her reflexes sharpened, and her stamina stabilized, even under the oppressive weight of the suppression field.

When the next operative came at her, his blade swinging low toward her legs, she didn't dodge. Instead, she stepped forward, her enhanced leg sweeping upward in a brutal kick that connected with his weapon arm. The force of the blow disarmed him instantly, sending his weapon skittering across the floor.

Another operative closed in from behind, aiming for her blind spot. Irina's senses flared, and she pivoted sharply. Her telekinesis caught a shard of glass mid-air, hurling it toward the attacker with deadly speed. The shard struck true, slicing across his shoulder and forcing him to retreat.

The operatives adjusted, coordinating their efforts with practiced movements. Suppression arrows rained down from above, their mana-laden tips glowing faintly. Irina's eyes darted upward, and with a sweeping motion of her hand, she redirected the debris around her to intercept the projectiles. Each arrow shattered on impact, the fragments falling harmlessly to the ground.

But the reprieve was brief. A group of three operatives charged her simultaneously, their enchanted weapons glowing faintly as they aimed to overwhelm her defenses.

Irina crouched low, her body coiling like a spring. Her telekinesis flared to life, lifting a massive slab of stone from the ground. With a sharp motion, she hurled it toward the group. The sheer force of the impact sent two operatives flying, while the third managed to sidestep the projectile.

He lunged at her, his blade aimed for her chest. Irina shifted her stance, her enhanced body moving with speed and precision. She caught his wrist mid-strike, her grip like iron. With a twist of her arm, she disarmed him, the blade clattering to the floor.

"Not today," she muttered, driving her knee into his stomach. The operative crumpled, gasping for air as he fell to the ground.

Despite her efforts, the sheer number of attackers was beginning to weigh on her. Sweat dripped down her temple, her breathing steady but labored. Her enhanced body could only sustain this level of exertion for so long, and the suppression field continued to press heavily on her mana reserves.

But Irina didn't falter. She tightened her focus, the debris around her swirling with renewed intensity. Each movement of her hands sent shards and fragments flying, her telekinesis acting as both sword and shield.

'I just need to hold on,' she thought, her resolve hardening. 'Astron will finish this. I just have to keep standing.'

The next wave of operatives advanced, their confidence shaken but their intent unwavering. Irina raised her hands, her telekinetic grip tightening on every piece of debris within reach.

"Come on, then," she said, her voice steady despite the strain. "Let's see if you can keep up."

The battle raged on, but Irina stood firm, a force of will and raw power refusing to be overwhelmed. This wasn't just survival—it was defiance, and she wasn't going to let them take her down.

As the last of the operatives retreated momentarily, Irina's steady breath echoed in the smoke-filled hall. She tightened her grip on the swirling debris around her, her mind clear and her stance firm. But then, a new presence emerged—a chilling shift in the air that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Two figures stepped forward from the shadows, their movements deliberate and unhurried. Unlike the other operatives, these two radiated an aura of authority and danger, their confidence palpable.

Irina's sharp hazel eyes assessed them immediately. One of them carried a spear, its sleek, enchanted surface glowing faintly in the dim light. He was tall and lean, his movements precise as he twirled the weapon lazily in his hands. The other wielded a sword, its blade jagged and menacing, designed for more than just killing—it was made to inflict pain. This one was broader, his stance grounded and unshakable, his eyes gleaming with a cruel sense of amusement.

"Well, well," the swordsman said, his voice low and mocking. "Look at her. The Emberheart heiress, fighting so hard. Alone."

The spearman chuckled, his gaze sweeping over Irina with predatory intent. "Do you really think you can hold us off by yourself?" He tilted his head, his smirk widening. "How arrogant. Typical of the Emberhearts."

Irina didn't respond, her expression hardening as she steadied herself. She adjusted her stance slightly, her telekinetic barrier tightening around her.

"Silent now?" the swordsman sneered. "Or maybe… your boyfriend left you to deal with this mess on your own?" His words dripped with mockery. "Don't worry, though. He'll be following your direction soon enough."

Irina's jaw tightened, her grip on the swirling debris faltering for just a second. 'Ignore them,' she told herself, forcing her focus back onto the fight. 'Their words are just another weapon.'

The spearman took a step forward, his weapon spinning once before pointing directly at her. "Let's see how long she can last."

The spearman lunged first, his weapon moving with speed and precision. Irina redirected a chunk of debris toward him, but he sidestepped it effortlessly, closing the distance between them in an instant. His spear lashed out, the enchanted tip glinting as it sliced toward her.

Irina threw up a telekinetic barrier, catching the strike, but the force sent her skidding back a step. She countered immediately, sending shards of steel toward him, but the swordsman was already moving, his blade flashing as he intercepted the projectiles mid-air.

"Not bad," the spearman said, his tone mocking. "But not good enough."

Before she could react, he thrust again, his spear grazing her side. Pain lanced through her as blood seeped from the cut, but she grit her teeth, refusing to falter. She lashed out telekinetically, forcing the two back momentarily.

The swordsman chuckled darkly, stepping forward as the spearman circled to her side. "You're good," he admitted, his voice carrying a twisted sense of approval. "But we don't need to kill you, do we?"

They weren't trying to end her life—they were trying to incapacitate her. To capture her. That much was evident from the start so she was not surprised at all.

'Heh….'

But well, that was going to be their mistake.

The spearman's enchanted weapon glinted in the dim light as it lunged forward, aimed with surgical precision at Irina's abdomen. Her muscles tensed, her body already bracing for the pain. Blood already seeped from shallow cuts across her arms and sides, her enhanced body pushed to its limit. But her resolve didn't waver.

'Just a little longer,' she thought, her hazel eyes fierce despite the exhaustion weighing on her limbs. 'I can endure this. I trust him.'

The spear was mere inches away when it stopped.

A pulse of purple energy erupted between her and the spearman, an ethereal barrier appearing out of nowhere. The energy shimmered, its surface swirling with intricate patterns as it spread across the battlefield. The spearman froze mid-strike, his arm trembling as he tried and failed to push past the invisible force.

"What is this?" he snarled, his voice carrying a note of panic.

Irina's eyes widened, her breath catching as she took in the scene. The swordsman, too, found himself unable to move, his blade halted mid-swing. His expression twisted into one of confusion and anger as he struggled against the same force binding his companion.

"It's him," Irina whispered, her voice laced with a mixture of relief and determination.

'Astron.'

The faint hum of suppression mana, a constant oppressive weight on her senses, began to fade. Irina's eyes flickered toward the edges of the room, and her heart skipped a beat as she realized what was happening.

The veil suppressing her fire magic was disappearing.

She flexed her fingers instinctively, a flicker of flame sparking to life at her fingertips. The warmth spread quickly, familiar and comforting, as her connection to her core reignited. The suppression was gone, and her power—her fire—was hers again.

The spearman's struggle grew more frantic, his voice rising as he barked, "What kind of trick is this?!"

The swordsman snarled, his tone sharp with frustration. "This isn't over! Do you hear me, Emberheart?!"

Irina stepped forward, her flames igniting fully now, coiling around her arms like living serpents. Her gaze was sharp, unyielding as she stared down her immobilized attackers. The pain in her body was still there, but it felt distant now, muted by the surge of power coursing through her veins.

"Heh…..Finally….."

It was her battlefield now.

Chapter 723 - The Attack (5)

After leaving Irina, Astron moved like a phantom, his figure weaving through the smoke and shadows of the collapsing museum with practiced ease. The faint pulse of the suppression knots still active glimmered in his mind's eye, their locations etched into his memory. Each second counted—not only to dismantle the remaining two suppressors but to ensure Irina's safety.

He'd seen the spark of telekinetic force in her during their spars, subtle but potent. It was enough to give him confidence that she could hold her own, at least temporarily. Still, the five elite operatives, especially their leader, were no ordinary opponents. Irina wasn't ready to face them alone—not without her fire.

'Keep them off her. Buy her time.'

That is why, he had already formulated a plan.

'Indeed.'

Astron slipped into the shadows, his body dissolving into the inky tendrils of [Shadowborne]. The oppressive weight of the suppression fields no longer hindered his movements as severely; with each knot he broke, his connection to his mana grew stronger.

Ahead, three operatives loomed, their heightened senses scanning for him. One of them, clad in enchanted armor etched with runes, barked an order.

"Spread out! He's using the shadows—don't let him isolate us!"

Astron's mouth faintly, his form reappearing behind one of the operatives. In a single, fluid motion, he drove a dagger into the man's exposed joint, bypassing the enchanted plates of his armor. The operative crumpled with a muffled cry, his weapon clattering uselessly to the ground.

The other two turned, their blades flashing with suppression runes. But before they could react, Astron melted back into the shadows, his presence vanishing as if he'd never been there.

"He's toying with us!" one shouted, his voice tinged with frustration.

The second operative turned, swinging wildly at the sound, but it was futile. Astron reappeared to his left, his dagger slicing cleanly across the man's back. The operative stumbled, and before he could recover, Astron struck again—precise and lethal. The man fell, joining his comrade on the cold stone floor.

The last operative stood frozen, his eyes wide as he scanned the smoke-filled room. Astron emerged behind him, his purple eyes glowing faintly.

"Run," Astron whispered, his voice icy.

The man didn't hesitate, bolting down the corridor. Astron didn't follow; he had no time to waste. Instead, he turned his focus toward the second suppression knot, shimmering faintly through the haze.

****

Rovan Kael observed the skirmish from a higher vantage point, his sharp eyes narrowing as he tracked Astron's movements.

"He's faster than expected," one of his elites muttered, stepping beside him.

"Faster, yes," Rovan replied, his voice cold and measured. "But not unstoppable. He's playing guerilla, relying on the shadows and his speed. He won't hold out once we force him into open combat."

The elite operative nodded. "Shall we engage directly?"

Rovan's lips curled into a faint smile. "Not yet. Let him break another knot. It'll give us the opening we need."

Astron reached the second knot, its intricate structure embedded in the ceiling of a narrow hallway. He pulled out a dagger, channeling his mana into the blade until it glowed faintly with blue energy. With a sharp throw, the dagger streaked toward the knot.

BOOM!

The explosion rocked the hallway, sending fragments of stone raining down as the suppression field weakened further. Astron felt the pressure ease slightly, his mana flowing more freely.

'One left.'

But as he turned, he felt a sudden shift in the air—an oppressive presence that made his instincts scream.

Rovan Kael stepped into the hallway, flanked by two of his strongest operatives. The man exuded calm authority, his stance loose but calculated. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of a curved blade at his side.

"You've been a nuisance," Rovan said, his tone almost conversational. "But this ends now."

Astron's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on Celestalith. He didn't reply, his focus locking on the three opponents in front of him. He could feel the weight of their presence—these weren't ordinary hunters. Their movements were deliberate, their coordination precise.

Rovan drew his blade, its edge glowing faintly with suppression runes. "You can't keep running. Let's see how well you fight in the light."

The fight began with blistering speed. Rovan's operatives surged forward, their weapons flashing with mana as they attacked in tandem. Astron darted into the shadows, reappearing behind one and striking with his dagger.

CLANK!

The man deflected the blow with surprising speed, forcing Astron to retreat.

SLASH!

Rovan advanced, his blade slashing through the air with deadly strength.

One hit and it would be over.

Astron dodged, his movements fluid, but the second operative closed in from the side, their coordination forcing him onto the defensive.

'They're good,' Astron thought, his mind working rapidly. 'But they're not invincible.'

He feinted left, drawing the second operative closer, then twisted sharply, driving his dagger into the man's exposed side. The operative staggered, and Astron vanished into the shadows before Rovan's blade could find him.

"You're persistent," Rovan remarked, his tone calm. "But this isn't a game you can win."

Astron didn't respond, his focus already shifting to the final suppression knot. It glimmered faintly behind Rovan and his remaining operative, its intricate structure glowing faintly with mana.

'If I take that out, Irina will have full access to her flames.'

He surged forward, his body a blur as he launched himself past Rovan. The leader's blade flashed, narrowly missing Astron as he darted toward the knot. He drew Celestalith mid-motion, shifting it into its bow form.

TWANG!

Three arrows streaked through the air, each glowing with concentrated Lunar energy.

"DON'T LET HIM!"

But with his purpose evident, things wouldn't be that easy.

The moment his intent became clear, the operatives reacted swiftly, their coordination flawless. Seven additional fighters emerged from the smoke, positioning themselves strategically to block his path. From behind them, Rovan and his two elites tightened their formation, the air around them pulsing with contained mana.

"Don't let him near the knot!" one of the operatives shouted, their voices sharp and resolute.

Arrows, mana-infused projectiles, and bolts of elemental energy streaked through the air toward him in a relentless barrage. Astron's sharp eyes flickered, tracking the trajectories with precision.

SWOOSH!

He darted to the left, narrowly avoiding a crackling lightning bolt. Another projectile whistled past him as he twisted his body mid-air, his movements fluid and precise. Yet, despite his agility, the operatives weren't firing blindly. Their attacks were calculated, creating a web of suppression to limit his options.

'Not bad for a squad like this,' Astron thought, his mind racing. He could feel the battlefield narrowing around him, the open fire serving not just to strike him but to cut off his avenues of approach.

Astron's lips pressed into a thin line. In a swift motion, he gripped Celestalith, its ethereal glow pulsing faintly in his hand. With a thought, the weapon shifted, morphing into its martial arts form—a sleek, elongated staff adorned with faint, swirling shadows.

The air around him darkened, tendrils of shadow coiling and rising like living entities. He activated his newly acquired defensive skills.

"[Shadow Embrace]."

The shadows surrounding him surged, enveloping his body in a protective barrier. The black tendrils shimmered faintly, creating a dense, shifting shield that absorbed the incoming projectiles. Bolts of energy and arrows struck the barrier, dissipating harmlessly against the swirling darkness.

The mana cost was steep; he felt it draining from his reserves like a steady tide. But Astron pressed forward, his focus unyielding.

'No time to conserve mana. The knot has to go.'

One of the elite operatives surged forward, his enchanted blade aimed directly at Astron's chest. The man's stance was solid, his aura exuding deadly intent.

Astron didn't slow. His shadow-cloaked form became a blur as he closed the gap. Just before the operative's blade could strike, Astron shifted into [Cyclone Stance], his movements seamless and fluid.

WHOOSH!

He twisted, his staff spinning with immense force, creating a small vortex of shadow and wind. The operative's blade missed by inches as Astron sidestepped and countered with a precise palm strike infused with mana. The force of the blow sent the man hurtling backward, his weapon clattering to the ground.

SWOOSH!

Before the next operative could close the distance, Astron bent his knees and leaped skyward, the shadows propelling him higher. Below, another elite swung his sword in a wide arc, but Astron's aerial maneuver carried him clear of the attack.

Mid-air, he extended his hand, activating [Grapple]. A thread of mana shot out, latching onto the wall near the knot. With a sharp tug, he pulled himself forward, his body flying over the heads of the remaining operatives.

As he soared through the air, Astron extended his free hand, recalling the daggers he had thrown earlier. They responded instantly, ripping free from their embedded positions and streaking toward him. The operatives closest to the daggers instinctively ducked, momentarily thrown off balance.

With a deft motion, Astron caught the daggers mid-air, his grip firm and practiced. Using the momentum of his leap, he hurled them again, this time directly at Rovan and his remaining elite.

The daggers streaked toward Rovan with immense speed, forcing the leader to halt his advance.

CLANK!

"Tsk."

Rovan's blade flashed as he deflected one dagger with a sharp, practiced motion. The second and third daggers struck the ground before him, exploding in bursts of concussive force.

BOOM!

The shockwave rippled through the area, sending dust and debris flying. Rovan raised an arm to shield his face, his sharp gaze fixed on Astron even as the explosion momentarily disrupted his momentum.

Landing lightly on the wall near the suppression knot, Astron didn't waste a second. He drew Celestalith again, shifting it back into bow form. His purple eyes gleamed as he nocked a single arrow, channeling an immense surge of Lunar energy into the projectile.

TWANG!

The arrow streaked forward, striking the knot dead center.

BOOM!

The suppression knot exploded, the intricate formation shattering into a cascade of blue light. The oppressive weight of the mana suppression lifted entirely, and Astron felt a surge of relief as his full strength returned.

'Hmm...'

But that was not enough.

Something.

'Wait.'

From the corner of his eyes, Astron saw that Irina was in danger.

Umbralith.

Hence he changed the [Celestalith] in the last second.

And activated the skill, stopping the others from advancing.

Though by this point, his mana reserves were really about to go down.

But he knew things would be fine by now.

'I've done my part. Your turn, Irina.'

Chapter 724 - The Attack (6)

The instant her flames roared to life, Irina could feel the shift in the air. The oppressive suppression field that had weighed her down was gone, replaced by the crackling energy of her awakened fire. The flames coiled around her arms like serpents ready to strike, their heat rolling off her in waves. She flexed her fingers, embers dancing between them, her hazel eyes locked on the two immobilized attackers.

Their fear was evident now—the subtle tremble in the spearman's hands, the tightness in the swordsman's jaw as he struggled against the binding force. It sent a thrill through her, a vindication of the anger simmering within her chest.

'They thought they could take me,' she thought, her lips curling into a smirk. 'Threaten me, mock me, and expect to get away with it.'

The purple energy holding the assailants dissipated without warning, leaving them free to move. The spearman staggered slightly before regaining his balance, his weapon raised defensively. The swordsman glanced at him briefly, their confidence clearly shaken but not entirely broken.

Irina tilted her head, her smirk widening. "What's the matter?" she taunted, her voice low and laced with mockery. "You looked so confident before."

The spearman snarled, trying to mask his unease with bravado. "You're just one girl—don't think you can—"

He didn't get to finish. With a flick of her wrist, Irina sent a wave of flames surging toward him. The fire roared to life, consuming the air between them in an instant. The spearman barely managed to leap aside, the edges of his cloak igniting as he rolled to extinguish the flames.

The swordsman lunged toward her, his jagged blade gleaming. Irina met his charge head-on, her telekinesis flaring. Shards of debris lifted around her, propelled by invisible force. The first shard struck his arm, deflecting his blade; the second slammed into his knee, forcing him to falter.

"You think you can capture me?" she hissed, her flames intensifying. "You think you can mock me and walk away?"

The swordsman growled, trying to push forward, but Irina wasn't finished. She raised her hand, flames swirling above her palm before she hurled them forward. The fire lashed out like a whip, striking his chest and sending him sprawling backward.

The spearman tried to counter, his weapon spinning toward her in a precise arc. Irina's flames flared brighter, intercepting the strike. The spear's enchantment struggled against the fire, but her telekinesis slammed into his side, throwing him off balance.

Irina stepped forward, her flames spreading like a living entity, consuming the room around her. The shattered debris she had been using moments ago ignited, turning into blazing projectiles. With each flick of her wrist, the fire danced to her will, a symphony of destruction that left no corner untouched.

The spearman scrambled to his feet, his movements desperate now as he tried to avoid the inferno. Irina's flames surged toward him, forcing him into a corner. He swung his spear wildly, but she deflected each strike with precise telekinetic force.

The swordsman wasn't faring any better. His movements were slower now, his armor scorched and his blade struggling to find its mark. Irina's fire seemed to anticipate his every move, cutting him off before he could get close.

"You're not getting out of here," she said coldly, her voice steady and commanding. "Neither of your team."

The spearman lunged again, this time with a desperate roar, but Irina was ready. She raised both hands, her flames coiling around him like a serpent. With a sharp motion, she tightened the fiery grip, the heat forcing him to drop his weapon as he screamed in pain.

The swordsman tried to retreat, his confidence crumbling, but Irina's telekinesis locked onto him. A jagged piece of blazing steel shot forward, striking his leg and pinning him in place. He snarled in pain, his blade falling from his hand.

The moment she felt the flicker of movement from her peripheral vision, Irina's instincts flared. More figures emerged from the smoke, rushing toward her from every angle, their weapons raised and glinting ominously in the fiery light of her magic.

But Irina didn't flinch. Her hazel eyes burned with defiance as she stood tall, her flames coiling and pulsing in anticipation. Without lifting her arms, she summoned a spell that surged with her signature power.

「School of Emberheart: Infernal Dominion」

The room erupted in fire as waves of flame spiraled outward from her body, coiling like fiery tendrils and lashing out in every direction. The four approaching attackers were caught in an instant, their screams silenced as the flames engulfed them, burning through armor and flesh alike.

The heat was searing, the intensity almost blinding, but Irina stood unaffected at the center of the inferno, her eyes scanning for the next threat. She had no time to rest.

Just as she prepared to cast again, her senses screamed a warning. Another figure lunged toward her from behind, their blade aimed for her exposed side. Irina turned sharply, but before she could react, a blur of motion intercepted the attack.

CLANG!

The sound of steel meeting steel rang through the air as Astron deflected the blow with a precise, fluid strike. His dagger gleamed faintly, his movements sharp despite the exhaustion written on his face. He drove the attacker back with a swift counter, his purple eyes narrowing as he turned toward Irina.

"You did well," she said, her tone even but laced with relief. Her flames flickered as she allowed herself a brief moment to assess him. "Are you okay?"

Astron gave a faint nod, his breathing steady but strained. "My mana is on the verge of depletion," he admitted, his voice calm despite the chaos around them. "But aside from that, I'm fine."

Irina's lips curled into a smirk, her confidence returning. "Good. Cover me, then."

"I will," he replied without hesitation, his stance steady as he turned to face the next wave of attackers.

The remaining operatives hesitated, their movements faltering as they realized the tide of the battle had turned. Between Irina's unrelenting flames and Astron's shadow-like precision, their advantage was gone. It was no longer a coordinated assault—it was a desperate attempt to salvage what they could.

The spearman and swordsman exchanged a quick glance, their earlier bravado replaced with grim determination. One of them barked an order, their voice sharp and urgent. "Pull back! Take her down if you can, but retreat!"

The operatives moved quickly, their focus shifting to escape. But Irina and Astron weren't about to let them go.

"They're running," Astron said, his purple eyes narrowing as he took in the chaotic retreat.

Irina's flames surged around her as she took a step forward, her voice carrying over the din of the battle. "Not so fast."

The two moved in tandem, their actions coordinated without the need for words. Astron darted ahead, his movements fluid as he targeted the retreating operatives, his daggers striking with lethal precision. He cut down two as they tried to regroup, their bodies crumpling before they could reach the exit.

Meanwhile, Irina raised her arms, her flames swirling into a massive vortex that engulfed the center of the room. 「School of Emberheart: Pyric Tempest」 Her magic surged outward, blocking the escape routes with walls of fire that forced the remaining operatives to scatter.

The spearman turned, his weapon spinning defensively as he tried to fend off the relentless assault. Irina's flames lashed toward him, and though he managed to deflect the first strike, the second wrapped around his arm, searing through flesh and forcing him to drop his weapon.

The swordsman snarled, his jagged blade slashing at Astron in a desperate attempt to cover their retreat. But Astron moved faster, his dagger slicing cleanly through the man's guard. The swordsman stumbled back, blood dripping from a deep cut across his side.

The battlefield crackled with tension as Irina's flames surged around her, their golden-red glow casting flickering shadows on the walls. The operatives were retreating, but their strategy shifted as they used the scattering civilians for cover. Irina's hazel eyes burned with frustration as she clenched her fists, her magic pulsating in the air around her.

"Cowards," she muttered under her breath, her flames dimming slightly as she hesitated. She couldn't risk hurting innocent bystanders.

The spearman had fallen back, clutching his charred arm, while the swordsman staggered, bleeding heavily but still on his feet. The other operatives moved in erratic patterns, slipping behind frightened civilians who huddled against the walls, their cries of panic filling the room.

Irina's lips curled in frustration. "They're using the civilians," she growled, her flames flickering with restrained intensity. "I can't… I can't unleash anything strong enough to end this without risking them."

Before she could make her next move, Astron raised a hand, his calm gesture stopping her in her tracks.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice sharp but laced with confusion.

"Stop," Astron said, his tone steady and composed. His sharp purple eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail—the operatives' movements, the civilians' positions, the exhaustion etched into Irina's face.

"Why?" Irina demanded, her flames swirling faintly around her fists, reluctant to fade entirely. "We can finish this!"

Astron's gaze turned to her, his expression unyielding. "You're injured," he said bluntly. "And we're not in a good condition for a chase. If we push too hard, we risk making things worse."

Irina opened her mouth to argue, but his words struck a chord of reason. He wasn't wrong—her shoulder ached from an earlier strike, and her mana reserves were far from full.

"And," Astron continued, his tone lower but still firm, "there are civilians here. We've already drawn too much attention, and now that your identity is exposed, you need to be careful about your public image."

Irina's eyes narrowed, her frustration mingling with curiosity as she studied his calm expression. He wasn't just thinking about their immediate situation—there was something deeper in his reasoning, a plan forming behind those sharp eyes.

"You're planning something," she said, her tone quieter but filled with certainty.

Astron didn't deny it. Instead, he glanced at the remaining operatives, who had managed to regroup near the edge of the room, still using civilians as their shields. "We've done enough for now," he said. "Let them run. They'll reveal more about themselves later. Right now, we secure the civilians and leave this place intact."

Irina hesitated, her flames dimming further as she processed his words. She hated the idea of letting them go, hated the thought of unfinished business. But Astron's logic was undeniable.

"Fine," she said at last, her flames fading completely as she stepped back. "But you better have a plan for when we catch them again."

Astron gave a faint nod, his focus shifting to the civilians. "Let's make sure they're safe first."

The remaining operatives, sensing their reprieve, began retreating in earnest. Irina watched them go with a simmering frustration, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. But as she glanced at Astron again, his calm demeanor steadied her resolve.

He's right, she thought begrudgingly. There's no point in reckless action now. Not when there's a bigger picture to consider.