Derek stared at the bathroom floor of the Orbisar Novice Gym, brow furrowed in concentration.

  Alyra had been right here just a few hours ago. She’d showered and headed back to her quarters. A perfectly normal day… until suddenly it wasn’t.

  Claudine Bleakmoor, the petite gym instructor, stood rigidly beside him, hands twisting nervously. Her jaw was clenched, lips pressed into a thin, nearly invisible line across her pale face. She moved like the sky was about to fall on top of her.

  Alyra, just like all the other novices, had been directly under Claudine’s watch, and the weight of responsibility was clearly wearing her down.

  Derek hadn’t yet figured out who to blame for this mess. Not that it mattered right now. All that mattered was finding Alyra.

  Everything else could wait.

  Isabelle and Garath were off scanning the area with glowing instruments that meant jack shit to him. For all he knew, they could’ve been enchanted Happy Meal toys.

  They could do whatever they wanted. He was sticking with what he always turned to when the universe decided to slap him around.

  Science.

  He’d told Vanda to scan the area using every sensor they had, even the ones that made zero sense. She hadn’t argued. She’d just gone to work.

  Good girl, Vanda.

  As a result, the NOVA’s display was cluttered with graphs and readouts like a jungle of vines, just like the ones he’d trudged through not long ago.

  He had no idea what exactly they were supposed to be looking for, and he couldn’t afford to rule anything out. Problem was, if this was something native to this damn magical world, odds were it hadn’t left an energy trail Vanda could lock onto.

  Something tapped his shoulder plate.

  He turned, and found himself face-to-face with a skull. Hollow eye sockets stared back at him. The skull dipped, and the dead gaze was replaced by Tunga’s furrowed brow.

  Derek narrowed his eyes. “What is it, shaman? Bit busy over here.”

  “You stare at floor. That all you do?”

  “I’m scanning the area for—” He rolled his eyes. There was no way Tunga was going to grasp the science behind what he was doing. “I’m trying to find Alyra. What do you want?”

  Tunga looked down at the floor, then back up at him. “Alyra not on floor.”

  “Oh, thank you! That’s a huge help.” Derek shouted. “Guess I can stop looking now. Mission accomplished.”

  Isabelle shot him a sideways glance, then turned back to her mysterious little ritual.

  Tunga didn’t flinch. “She alive.”

  Derek swallowed hard. His mouth suddenly dry. “H-how do you know that?”

  Tunga looked at him like it was the dumbest question in the world. “If she dead, I hear her. I don’t. So she alive.”

  Derek bit his tongue. He did not have the patience for this kind of crap right now.

  He turned to Garath. “You find anything?”

  The inquisitor shook his head. “No. I already tried once. Nothing then, nothing now. No trace of residual magic, unfortunately.”

  Derek looked to Isabelle.

  She hesitated.

  His heart jumped into his throat. He took a step closer. “You… found something,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He could tell she was holding something back.

  The Warden shook her head. “My stone didn’t light up. Neither did Garath’s.”

  Derek’s heart sank back into his chest, then straight through the floor. “Oh. For a moment I was… sure you had something.”

  Isabelle glanced at the wooden instrument she was turning over in her hand. “I didn’t say I don’t.”

  Derek blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She raised the device, inlaid with seven gemstones, for him to see. It looked a lot like the one Ithara had used, except this one wasn’t made by a blind toddler with glue sticks. It was elegant, precise, and symmetrical.

  Derek waited, jaw clenched. Whatever she was about to say was their last shot at finding Alyra.

  “This device,” Isabelle said, “detects any of the seven forms of sacred magic granted to us by Orbisar. If an Ascendant of Orbisar, or any being tainted by his magic, had been here and used even a fraction of their power to subdue Alyra, or to hide and wait for the right moment, we’d know.”

  “Fascinating,” Derek said, sounding anything but fascinated. “So we’ve got nothing. No trail, no clue how the attacker got in or out undetected.”

  Isabelle’s brow twitched. “An impossible thing to do without using powers. So I asked myself why the stones didn’t react at all. So I tried casting a weak lightning spell. Right there.” She pointed to a black scorch mark on the white wall.

  She moved closer, pressing the instrument right against the burn. It remained inactive.

  Her storm-gray eyes turned to him.

  Derek pointed at it, heat rising to his face. “It’s… not working? You’ve had us standing here for over an hour while you played magic tricks with a broken device?”

  Garath stepped closer to the scorched wall. “They work perfectly. It’s almost impossible for one of these detectors to suddenly malfunction.” He pressed his own against the same spot. Still nothing. “Let alone two.”

  Derek rubbed his jaw. “Which means they’re working exactly as they should.”

  Bleakmoor shifted nervously. “What… are you saying?” She looked from Derek to Isabelle, then to Garath.

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  Tunga slammed his staff on the ground with a sharp crack, making her jump. “Mean our eyes lie to us,” he said.

  Derek nodded. “Exactly. We’re in the middle of an illusion spell. Again.”

  “Sierelith,” Isabelle hissed.

  “Yeah,” Derek agreed. “Unless there’s another rogue illusion mage wandering around Rothmere, odds are this was her doing.”

  The realization hit Derek like a truck.

  Sierelith was cunning—diabolically so—but he hadn’t thought she was capable of something like this. He’d been the one to vouch for her, to stop them from locking her up.

  And as if that wasn’t enough, he’d painted a giant target on Alyra’s back. Made it loud and clear how much he cared about her.

  And guess what? Sierelith vanished.

  And now she had Alyra.

  Every choice he’d made was blowing up in his face, and this time Alyra was the one paying for it.

  A hand landed on his shoulder, firm but steady. NOVA’s sensors confirmed the touch. He turned to find Isabelle’s gray eyes, dark, stormy, and burning with fury.

  “We’ll find Alyra,” she said, voice tight with anger.

  Derek nodded.

  “Sierelith made a grave mistake,” Isabelle growled. “This time, not even Orbisar will save her!”

  The Warden turned to Inquisitor Garath, who gave a solemn nod and bowed slightly.

  Suddenly, the two of them seemed perfectly in sync.

  Capture Sierelith. Make her pay. Probably even kill her.

  As if he gave a damn about getting revenge on a girl who’d probably been brainwashed by her father, Korrigan Malzar, head of the heretics.

  Before he could say anything, Isabelle strode toward the door. Garath was at her side in a flash, and Bleakmoor rushed to follow.

  Tunga stared at Derek, then sighed.

  “What?” Derek asked.

  “You say this not jungle.” He pointed at Isabelle. “But I not see much difference.”

  “You’ve got a point, shaman.” Derek clapped his shoulder. “Scary thought, but right now you might be the clearest-headed one of us.”

  Tunga rolled his eyes and followed the others, and Derek hurried to catch up.

  Isabelle and Garath were in the garden outside, holding their instruments like magical compasses. A faint violet glow pulsed inside one of the seven stones on each device. As they shifted direction, the glow would dim or brighten. When it lit up, they advanced.

  In no time, they were out of the school and onto the main road.

  Rothmere’s main street in late morning was a blur of motion and dust. Merchants barked prices from beneath striped awnings, horses clopped past pulling carts overloaded with crates, and temple bells tolled faintly in the distance.

  Sunlight spilled over the stone fa?ades of the church-dominated skyline, catching on polished armor and glinting off stained glass. The scent of baked bread, sweat, and incense drifted through the air.

  “Where are we headed?” Derek whispered.

  “Northwest,” Vanda replied gently. “No anomalies detected in that direction. At least not within the range of current sensors.”

  “Looks like Sierelith took Alyra,” Derek muttered.

  “Do you have a theory as to her motive?”

  Derek grimaced. “To piss me off.”

  “I’m glad to see that at least you’re still joking.”

  “I’m not joking, Vanda. Alyra’s just a thirteen-year-old girl. She’s got no one in this world.”

  “She has you, Derek.”

  He nodded. “Exactly, Vanda. She’s got me. And Isabelle. And now we’re both pissed. But Sierelith’s mission isn’t Isabelle. It’s me. She wanted to get under my skin, and she nailed it.”

  “Why would anyone go that far just to make you angry?” Vanda asked. “Everyone knows calling you ‘Messiah’ is enough to set you off.”

  Derek rolled his eyes. “Touché. But that’s kind of the point. Sierelith’s mission was to reach out to the Cashnar, maybe even kidnap him. But when I showed her I didn’t have an aura, I made her doubt. Even she started wondering if I’m really the Messiah.”

  “I still don’t understand why she had to kidnap little Alyra,” Vanda said.

  “Sierelith’s testing me. I think she wants to verify if I’m the Messiah. And that test… requires Alyra.”

  “Then she’s still alive.”

  Derek nodded. “Yeah, Vanda. But it also means she’s probably in serious danger. The kind of danger only the Cashnar could get her out of.”

  “But you’re not the Cashnar.”

  “Nope,” Derek said. “Thanks, Vanda. First time you’ve said that out loud. And the one time I wish you hadn’t.”

  “You’re welcome, Derek. So you believe she took Alyra and plans to put her in serious danger just to see the Messiah in action and prove her theory about your powers? What makes you so sure that’s her plan?”

  He shrugged. “It’s what I would’ve done. Sure, she could’ve waited and just observed me... with time and patience, she might’ve learned something. But she didn’t strike me as the patient type. Coming here to Rothmere, right into the heart of the Church in Narkhara… that says a lot about how far she’s willing to go.”

  “Looks like you’ve found your successor, Derek. Planning to adopt her too, like you did with Alyra?”

  He blinked. “Excuse me? I didn’t adopt anyone. And I don’t plan to.”

  “Sure, if you say so, Derek.”

  He sighed. “Let’s just hope we find them before that heretic spy puts whatever twisted plan she’s cooked up into action.”

  “We could send the Repair Bots out to scout,” Vanda offered. “They might pick up something.”

  “Good idea. That lunatic probably has a billion tricks to cover her tracks, and this jungle’s got about a billion hiding spots. But a few extra eyes in the sky won’t hurt.”

  Up ahead, Isabelle, Inquisitor Garath, Instructor Claudine Bleakmoor, and Tunga had stopped a few steps ahead.

  Derek walked up to them, frowning. “What is it? Did we lose the trail?”

  Isabelle shook her head. “No. The trail’s clear now. Bright as day.”

  Garath’s mouth curled into a smile, like a predator savoring the scent of its prey. “Look at this. With a trail like this, capturing her and locking her in the dungeons will be easy. Not even the Cashnar’s word will save her this time.” He threw a sideways glare at Derek.

  Isabelle frowned. “Strange. It’s almost like she wants to be found.”

  Of course she did. Sierelith’s plan was already in motion. But Derek had no choice but to follow and hope for the best. “So why are we just standing here? Why aren’t we chasing her?”

  “The path,” Isabelle said, nodding toward the dirt road winding through the green hills, “leads northwest.”

  The smile vanished from Garath’s face. “All the way to Ebonshade. It’s about three hours on foot in that direction.”

  Bleakmoor covered her mouth, stifling a gasp.

  Derek raised an eyebrow. “Ebonshade? What the hell is that?”

  “A village,” Isabelle replied. “They supply Rothmere with brownwood from the jungle, medicinal herbs, and a few other goods.”

  Derek nodded slowly. They were all acting weird. His heart started to race. “And what haven’t you told me yet?”

  Tunga slammed his staff into the ground. “A Life sphere fell there over a month ago. The Spirit of the Beast showed me, back when it still spoke to me.”

  “A Life sphere?” Derek turned to Isabelle, eyes searching for answers. “That’s the same type of energy Ithara used to heal me. Doesn’t sound dangerous. So why do you all look like someone just died?”

  Garath stiffened. “A few days after the Life sphere landed, we lost all contact with Ebonshade. I sent one of my most trusted soldiers to investigate. He never came back. So I dispatched a small elite team with orders to assess the situation and report back.”

  He paused, then added grimly, “They’re long overdue.”

  Derek swallowed hard. It felt like a boulder had lodged in his throat. “An entire team? Trained soldiers?”

  Garath nodded grimly.

  Derek’s heart sank. “And that lunatic Sierelith took Alyra there?”

  Isabelle drew a sharp breath. “You’re right, Derek. We need to start running. Maybe we’re still in time to—”

  “No!” Derek snapped. “You said the place is only three hours away. That means they’ve either already arrived, or they’re damn close, if they stopped at all. Either way, we won’t catch them before they get there. And once they do, they’ll be walking straight into whatever the hell made an entire Sacred Guard elite squad vanish.”

  He covered his mouth with a trembling hand. “It’s too late. Maybe that psycho thinks that since I’m the Messiah, I’ll pull off some kind of miracle to save Alyra.”

  Isabelle stepped closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Look, you can’t know that for sure.”

  Garath nodded once. “The Warden’s right. Maybe the heretic just wants to draw us into a trap, make us chase her, while she takes Alyra somewhere else.”

  Derek shook his head. “Where? That only makes sense if Alyra were the real target. But we both know she’s not.”

  Derek pressed a hand against the chestplate of his armor. “Her mission is to find and confirm the Cashnar’s identity. She wants me. And if she left a trail, it’s because she wants me to follow it.”

  Derek’s voice dropped. “She’ll be down there. Waiting. With Alyra. Dead or alive, that’s where we’ll find them.”

  Isabelle clenched a gloved fist, the metal groaning under the pressure. “I swear, Derek… I’ll find that witch. I don’t care what illusions she conjures, what shadows she hides behind, or what lies she spits, I’ll tear them all down. I’ll drag her into the light and make her pay for what she’s done.”

  A shadow of a smile tugged at Garath’s lips.

  Derek popped open his helmet. A wave of hot air wrapped around his head like a damp scarf. “If you think this is about what you’ll do to that girl once you find her, you’re even dumber than I thought, Isabelle. And let’s be clear. I never thought you were a genius.”

  The Warden’s eyes sparked, literal sparks of electricity crackling between her fingers. “You’re not defending her, are you?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Are you seriously this dense? Sierelith’s just a pawn. Like you, like... almost everyone else on this cursed planet. She’s probably just doing what her father told her to.”

  Isabelle stiffened, jaw tight.

  Derek ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and stepped in front of her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her until she finally—grudgingly—looked him in the eye. “Listen to me, Isabelle. This is a rescue mission. And there are two girls who need saving now. Am I clear?”

  She flinched. It took her several seconds before she managed to speak. “As you wish… Cashnar.” She nodded rigidly.

  Garath cleared his throat. “Whatever your reasons are, it won’t be easy.”

  Derek turned to him, voice low and sharp. “What the hell went wrong in that village?”

  Garath’s winced. “We don’t know. The sphere was Iron-rank. Elias is the priest down there, and on his own he should’ve had no trouble dealing with it. Wasn’t the first time a sphere fell near Ebonshade. And then there’s the team I sent. They were some of our best. They should’ve handled whatever came out of that thing without breaking a sweat.”

  Tunga’s staff slammed into the dirt with a dull thud. “Undead,” he growled. “Smell of rot. Of broken spirits. Of things that should not walk.”

  A heavy silence fell over the group.

  Derek blinked. “E-excuse me?”

  Tunga’s voice was low and rough. “When a Life sphere falls on a graveyard, the dead rise. At first, they talk, like when they were alive. But they’re unstable. If no one puts them down, they turn into beasts. All they want is to kill the living.”

  Derek narrowed his eyes. “And how do you know that’s what happened down there?”

  “The Spirit of the Beast showed me. It showed all the shamans and warned us to stay away.”

  Derek frowned. “I thought you were supposed to stop this kind of thing in the jungle. Isn’t that why the Spirit speaks to you?”

  Tunga nodded slowly. “Yes. Usually. But not this time.”

  Garath rubbed his chin. “Hmm… it’s possible. But even if a group of undead had attacked the village, my men would’ve been able to handle it.”

  “No…” Tunga shook his head firmly. “Death and Life are mad down there. The Spirits are restless. There is great danger.”

  They fell silent, watching the grave expression on the gray-skinned shaman’s face. His bald forehead was furrowed with worry, like waves rippling across a storm-tossed sea.

  So that was what awaited them. The place Sierelith had chosen to take Alyra after kidnapping her.

  A place so dangerous that even the jungle shamans had been forbidden to approach it.

  A place feared by the Spirit of the Beast itself.

  A chill crawled up Derek’s spine, but he forced it down. Heat surged through his face, wrapping it in a cocoon of fury.

  He wasn’t going to let the universe win.

  Not this time.

  Not without seeing, with his own eyes, what had happened to that village.

  Not without throwing everything he had into saving Alyra.

  “Then it’s settled,” Derek said.

  Isabelle looked at him and straightened, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword.

  Tunga slammed his staff into the earth, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

  Derek met their eyes, one by one, and gave a firm nod.

  “We’re going to Ebonshade.”

  A normal day turned into a nightmare.

  Alyra’s gone, and every trace of her disappearance reeks of illusion magic. Derek’s trying to solve it with logic. Isabelle wants blood.

  Their trail leads to a place whispered about even by the shamans, a village called Ebonshade.

  Chapter 60 marks the start of the descent. ?

  And for those who don’t want to wait to learn Alyra’s fate, the upcoming chapters are already available on .