The underground base smelled faintly of smoke and damp stone. Flickering lanterns cast wavering shadows on the walls, where scattered maps and torn banners still clung in defiance of time. Litzil pushed open a heavy door, leading Lior, Kael, Junia, and Tieu inside. Several tired but determined faces looked up at them.
A wiry boy with sharp eyes stepped forward. "Litzil, you're back!" he said, his tone mixing relief with urgency.
Litzil nodded firmly. "Gatuya, I'm back. Inform Layla and Aryan immediately. And—tell me—is it true that Yusuf and Bilal got caught today?" His voice trembled with restrained anger.
Gatuya's face darkened, his hands curling into fists. "Yes, Litzil. It happened this morning. We are sorry… they put up a fight, but… they were overwhelmed. Yasin already started to follow the soldiers' trail. If we're right, Yusuf and Bilal were taken to the same place where Michi must be."
At the mention of Michi, Lior's eyes hardened. He took a step forward. "Then we don't waste a single moment. Where is he? Tell us what to do."
Litzil inhaled deeply, as if carrying the weight of countless lives. "Listen carefully. You already know the basics of the situation. We have no more time to stall. We must divide into three teams."
Kael frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Three teams? What do you mean?"
"Three," Litzil repeated gravely. "One team to save Michi and the others. One team to rescue the prince. And one team to free the princess."
The room went silent for a moment. Kael's voice broke through, sharp with skepticism. "Hold on—why them? Why risk ourselves for royalty when Michi is already suffering?"
Gatuya stepped forward, his eyes blazing with conviction. "Because they are the key to stopping this bloody massacre. Everyone knows they are not truly enemies, only victims of manipulation. Even now, after years of war, the prince and princess feel guilty for what has happened. They are ready to forgive each other—but they can't if they remain Khalab's prisoners. With them free, we might have a chance to unite Zephyrelle again."
Junia exchanged glances with Lior, then looked back at Litzil. Her voice was steady, though concern colored her tone. "Alright. Tell us clearly—who goes where?"
Litzil unfolded three worn maps, spreading them across the wooden table. His finger traced over the lines of hidden tunnels and guarded fortresses. "Tieu, Kael—you two will go to the dungeon to save Michi and the others. Yasin will join you on the way. Me and Gatuya will move for the prince's prison. Lior, Junia—you will go after the princess."
Tieu clutched her grimoire tightly. "So it's decided then. We split."
Kael exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Then we'd better not fail. Michi's depending on us."
Lior crossed his arms, staring at the map of the princess's location. "Junia, it looks like it'll be just the two of us. We'll manage. No matter what happens, we'll bring her back."
Junia nodded firmly, adjusting her bowstring. "We will. For Michi. For everyone."
Litzil looked around at all of them, his crimson hair falling slightly into his eyes. His voice rose, carrying conviction. "This is our last chance. If we fail tonight, everything ends here. We can't miss it. Everyone—this is for the future of Zephyrelle!"
The group placed their hands over the maps, a silent vow binding them together.
"Good luck," Kael muttered, giving a half-smile to Lior and Junia.
"Stay alive," Junia replied, her voice soft but sharp with determination.
Tieu gave a small bow to everyone. "We'll meet again after this… with Michi by our side."
Gatuya lifted his dagger, tapping it against his chest. "For the fallen. For Yusuf. For Bilal. We don't back down."
They all nodded. The preparations were swift. Armor tightened, weapons drawn, spells memorized. The underground chamber filled with a quiet but powerful energy: resolve.
---
Far away, in the heart of Zephyrelle's dark city, torches burned high as soldiers dragged Michi through the cobblestone streets. His body was limp, chains scraping against the ground. His face was barely recognizable—bloodied, swollen, and bruised. His forehead mark glowed faintly, though its light flickered under the weight of the strange fire infused into his collar.
The soldiers jeered as they pulled him into a grand arena, already filled with roaring crowds. The people screamed for blood, for spectacle, their cries echoing off the massive stone walls.
Kaeru walked calmly behind, twirling his fingers around the strange flame he carried. His lips curled into a smirk. "Heh heh… this old relic still works. A fire that burns not flesh but divinity. With this, your little forehead mark is nothing more than a scar." He tapped Michi's collar, and the faint glow dimmed completely.
The chains were yanked, dragging Michi to the center of the sand-filled arena. Soldiers threw him down roughly, a sword clattering beside him. His arms trembled as he tried to lift himself, only to collapse again, his breath ragged and shallow.
The crowd screamed louder, bloodlust filling the air. "Kill him! Break him!"
The gate at the far end groaned open. Heavy footsteps shook the ground as a massive, bulky man emerged. His skin was marked with scars, his muscles bulging like stone. The arena seemed to tremble under his weight.
He eyed Michi with cruel delight, then moved with shocking speed. His massive hand gripped Michi by the torso and, with monstrous strength, hurled him across the arena. Michi's body slammed against the stone wall with a sickening crack.
"Aaaaghh!" Michi screamed in agony, his voice raw. His left arm twisted unnaturally, broken from the impact. Blood streamed down his temple, his body crumpling onto the sand.
The crowd roared with approval, their cheers echoing like thunder.
And in the shadows above, Kaeru smiled, watching with cold amusement.