Shane was so absorbed in formulating a plan that the sound, when it came, didn't register as noise at first; it was a pressure wave—a deep, concussive *THUMP* that hit his chest before it reached his ears. The ground trembled faintly. Dust rained from the mansion's newly repaired archways.
For a heartbeat, everything in the courtyard froze. Slaves looked up, brushes still. Builders paused, their hands still glowing against stone. The guards stiffened, heads cocked toward the city.
Then the shouting began. Distant, panicked cries, carried on the wind from the direction of the city center. A moment later, a guard sprinted into the courtyard, his face pale beneath his helmet.
"Dungeon break!" he yelled, skidding to a halt before the guards. "The Ant Nest! The eastern sector is overrun!"
The guard's demeanor shattered. "What? How? The Adventurers' Guild assured us—"
"It doesn't matter how!" the guard snapped, forgetting his place in his fear. "They're saying the ants…. they're not just pawn ranks, there are bishop ranks on the field!"
The word Bishops sent a visible ripple of terror through the guards. Shane, from his position on the ground, felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach. He didn't know the ranking system, but the reaction was clear: this was catastrophic.
The guard's leader eyes darted around the half-restored property, then back toward the city. "Forget the scrubbing! Guards, secure the slaves! Get them back to their cages in the auction house immediately! No one tries anything funny!" He then turned to the Builders. "You lot, I reckon you know what to do during a dungeon break"
The courtyard exploded into controlled chaos. Guards became brutal in their efficiency, yanking slaves to their feet and shoving them into a rough line. Chains rattled as the group was hurriedly marched out of the mansion gates.
As he was pushed along, Shane's mind raced faster than his feet. 'A dungeon break. A crisis. This is it. This is the distraction.' But the sheer scale of the panic was terrifying; he had to use this given opportunity to make his plan work; this might be the only chance he had.
---
Somewhere in Duskmor, City Guard Headquarters
The room stank of fear and polished metal. Men clad in heavy armor stood around a long table, their weapons lying upon it like accusations.
"Damn it, why did this have to happen when the lord and his family are not in the city?" one of the captains complained, his voice tight.
A fist slammed down on the table, the wood groaning in protest. The man who struck it, Shelby Luken, radiated an aura of contained fury that made the air itself feel heavy. As the head of the City Guard, an Expert-rank warrior who had dedicated his life to the Reid family, his anger was a physical force.
"I understand your frustration," Shelby's voice was low, a dangerous gravel. "But save your breath for the ants. Those bloody commoners who call themselves Adventurers had one job: clear the dungeons. How in the abyss do they allow a break?"
A young guard burst into the room, his face ashen. "Guard Commander! Reports from the eastern front… the creatures… they're not normal ants."
Shelby's sharp gaze fixed on him. "And?"
"We had an adventurer with an inspection skill. He called them Chimera Ants, their energy signature… It's Bishop's rank, sir."
The silence in the room was colder than ice. The Ant Nest Dungeon had been a training ground for novices for decades, filled with harmless Pawn-rank insects. For a new strain to appear, already evolved to Bishop rank, was unthinkable.
"They evolved. But how?" Shelby demanded. "There was no mana fluctuation reported by the Guild. No warning."
"None, my lord. Nothing was reported to us."
"Get out," Shelby snarled, his voice dropping to a whisper that was more terrifying than a shout. "All of you. Now."
The room cleared in seconds. Alone, Shelby leaned on the table, a vein bulging on his forehead. The aura he emitted seeped through the door, causing the guards outside to break into a cold sweat. *Those fools. They had one job.' The weight of his failure was crushing. He had sworn an oath to protect this city in the lord's absence. Letting its people be slaughtered was a betrayal of his very being. He had to push the ants back. He had to eliminate the source.
Storming out of the headquarters, he ran towards the eastern sector, a blur of armored fury. The scenes he passed were a descent into hell. Streets were littered with the chitinous corpses of ants and the broken bodies of citizens and guards. He cut down any ant in his path without breaking stride, his sword a silver flash that left only dust in its wake.
He saw a group of adventurers and guards locked in a desperate struggle with one of the larger Chimera Ants. He didn't stop. His goal was singular: find the leader and cut the head off the snake.
When he reached the heart of the eastern district, his blood ran cold. Entire blocks were demolished. The dead were everywhere. Most chilling of all were the worker ants, methodically carrying the corpses of Xeric townsfolk away from the battle, ignoring the others, as if selecting specific spoils.
And in the center of the carnage stood the source of the corruption. It was a six-foot-tall monstrosity, its lower body a giant, segmented ant, its upper torso a muscular hyena-like humanoid with intelligent, savage eyes. The aura rolling off it was unmistakably Bishop rank.
"So you are the one responsible for this," Shelby's voice echoed across the ruined square, his own Expert-rank aura flaring, a visible pressure that made the very air hum. "You will pay for every life lost today."
The Chimera Ant Hyena let out a guttural laugh, a sound like grinding bones. It gestured with a clawed hand, and a hundred of its lesser brethren surged toward Shelby.
"Trash," Shelby spat.
A single, clean swipe of his blade. A crescent wave of pure force erupted from the steel, and the hundred ants crumbled into shimmering dust before they had taken three steps.
"I am not here for foot soldiers," Shelby declared, leveling his sword at the hyena-ant. "Face me."
He exploded into motion, a thunderbolt of steel and righteous anger, dashing straight through the heart of the ant army toward its commander, the fate of Duskmor hanging on his blade.
---
The march back to the auction house was chaos. The distant sounds of battle—screams, roars, the clash of steel—were a constant drumbeat of panic. The guards were no longer just brutal; they were nervous, their eyes darting towards every alleyway, their grips tight on their weapons. The "distraction" Shane had wished for was here, but it was a wave of pure destruction, and he was still chained in the middle of it.
"Move, you worthless lot! Faster!" a guard barked, shoving a stumbling slave ahead of him.
The streets were clogged with people fleeing in the opposite direction, their faces masks of terror. Shane saw a group of city guards, their armor spattered with unknown fluids, running towards the eastern sector, their formation tight and faces grim. The disparity was stark: the auction house guards were concerned with protecting their property; the city guard was running toward the fight.
Chimera Ants. Bishop rank. The terms meant little to Shane, but the reactions were a clear enough gauge. This was serious. The carefully maintained order of Duskmor was cracking.
As they were shoved through the iron-bound doors of the auction house and back into the dim, dusty hall, the master was already there, arguing with Kaelen, the tall Xeric auction house owner. Kaelen's face was a mask of cold displeasure.
"This instability is unacceptable," Kaelen said, his voice cutting through the noise of arriving slaves. "The private viewing for the high bidders is tomorrow. I will not have the value of my assets diminished by city-wide panic."
"The city guard will handle it," the master replied, though he sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "It's a single dungeon break. They happen."
"Not like this," Kaelen countered, his light brown eyes scanning the newly returned "trash" slaves as they were herded back into their cages. "The Ant Nest is a low-level dungeon. For it to produce Bishop-rank creatures suggests a fundamental corruption. The guard is undermanned, and the adventurers are disorganized."
The cage door slammed shut behind Shane, the lock clicking with finality. He gripped the cold bars, listening intently.
Kaelen turned to leave, but paused, delivering a final, icy order. "Double the guard on the prime lots. Especially the dual-talent holder. If the city falls into true chaos, she becomes our most valuable commodity for a swift exit. I want her ready to move at a moment's notice."
Shane's knuckles turned white on the bars. 'Plavenin is now their insurance policy and Kaelen's words confirmed it the private viewing was still on for tomorrow, the crisis hadn't changed the timeline, it had only made the security tighter, but this provide a chance for me and the others here, since most of the guards are taken to the guard the prime lots, that means low security for us'
He watched as extra guards were moved into the doorway that led to the secure holding area, while the remaining five guards' posture was different now, more alert, more dangerous. His initial idea of using the chaos as a simple diversion might still work, but he wouldn't be able to do it alone.
The main doors of the auction hall burst open again. A city guard, breathless and bleeding from a cut on his forehead, staggered in. "Commander Shelby is engaging the hive leader in the eastern district! But the ants are spreading! We need every able-bodied fighter to hold the secondary lines!"
The auction house guards looked at each other, then at their master. The master waved a dismissive hand. "Our duty is here. Protecting this investment is our contribution to stability."
The city guard spat on the floor in disgust and ran back out into the fray.
Shane sank down onto the floor of his cage, the reality of his situation settling like a physical weight. The dungeon break was a catastrophe, not a catalyst. Although it had made everything harder. The guards were on high alert, Plavenin was under heavier lock and key, and the city was devolving into a warzone, if he was to think about his own escape it was more visible than trying to rescue Plavenin
He had no weapons, no power, and no allies. And a desperate need to get to a woman who was now more heavily guarded than ever.
Inside his cage, Shane closed his eyes, not in rest, but in concentration. The plan had to change. The distraction was here, but he had no way to exploit it. He needed a new idea, and he needed it fast. The auction, and whatever fate it held, was now just one day away.
-----
Outside, the sounds of battle grew louder. A deep, bestial roar echoed through the canyon city, followed by a tremor that shook dust from the rafters. It was the sound of Shelby's fight.