The silver-masked Inquisitor signaled with his gauntlet.
From the dark entry tunnel behind him, three massive subterranean crawler hounds surged forward with ferocious chittering shrieks.
Their red eyes glowed in the cavern gloom, and thick yellow venom dripped from their serrated jaws as they lunged over the wet limestone boulders.
"Stay behind me," I ordered, stepping between the beasts and my wives.
I tightened my grip on my shortsword.
Black Abyssal mana poured out of my hand, coating the steel blade in dark, quiet energy.
The first crawler leaped from the rocks straight at my chest.
I stepped inside its reach and slashed upward.
My blade cut through its neck, severing its head in one clean stroke.
Black blood splashed onto the limestone floor.
Behind me, the second crawler tried to flank us, moving toward Isolde.
"I don’t need your protection, Voss," Isolde said coldly.
She raised her hand.
Two sharp needles of solid shadow shot from her fingertips, punching straight through the monster’s eyes.
It twitched once and fell dead into the shallow thermal water.
Seraphina, standing firmly beside the stone pedestal, threw her iron piton with full force.
The sharp metal spike buried itself deep into the third crawler’s chest, pinning it to the stone wall.
"Nice throw," I said.
I didn’t waste a second.
As the templars charged behind their fallen beasts, I drove my boot into the cracked stone floor right at the edge of the entry ledge.
My Abyssal mana shattered the weakened bedrock.
A deafening roar filled the grotto as tons of heavy granite and shale collapsed from the ceiling, burying the Inquisitor’s squad beneath the rockfall and completely sealing the entry tunnel.
Quiet returned to the cavern.
"Now, how do we get out?" Seraphina asked, her voice raspy. "The tunnel we came from is completely caved in."
I looked around the cavern.
The explosion from absorbing the Abyssal core and the ceiling collapse had knocked away a large section of the limestone wall at the back of the pool.
Behind the shattered rocks stood a thick, heavy iron door set into solid granite.
It had been hidden behind the fake stone wall for centuries until the cave-in exposed it.
"There," I said, pointing at the iron handle. "The rockfall revealed a doorway."
I walked over to the iron door.
The lock was rusted shut, but my Abyssal Caretaker physique gave me strength far beyond a normal man.
I grabbed the cold metal handle and pulled hard.
The rusted iron lock snapped with a loud crunch, and the door swung open with a heavy groan.
Behind the door was a wide, dry stone hallway. Faint blue mana-gems embedded in the high ceiling lit up the passage.
I walked back to the thermal spring. Isolde was sitting on the edge of the rocks, her face pale and her body shivering from the curse purge. Seraphina was trying to push herself up, but her legs were shaking violently.
"Stop moving," I told Seraphina flatly.
Before she could argue, I scooped her up into my left arm and picked up Isolde with my right.
"Cassian! Put me down, I can stand!" Seraphina protested, her cheeks flushing red as her chest pressed against my shirt.
"Your lower back nerves were unblocked ten minutes ago," I said, keeping my voice firm as I walked toward the doorway. "If you force your weight on your legs now, you’ll tear the healing tissue. Keep quiet."
Isolde wrapped her arms tightly around my neck to keep from falling. "Let the arrogant bastard carry us, Seraphina," Isolde whispered, though her cheeks were flushed red. "He just wants to prove how strong he is."
Despite her sharp tongue, Isolde leaned her head against my shoulder, her heart pounding fast against my chest.
I carried them down the dry stone hallway.
The passage opened into a large underground keep built directly into the base of the mountain.
It was an ancient fortress built by a forgotten border order.
The air inside was warm and fresh, pulled in by high ventilation shafts cut into the mountain peak.
I entered the main living quarters. The room was clean and well-preserved, featuring a heavy wooden table, stone chairs, a broad hearth, and a large bed covered in clean fur blankets.
I set Seraphina and Isolde down gently on the bed.
"Stay here and rest," I ordered.
I walked over to the hearth, cleared out the dry soot, and used a flint from my pouch to strike a fire. Warm, orange light filled the room, banishing the damp chill from the cave.
Connected to the bedroom was a small study. I walked inside and looked at the stone desk. On top lay several old leather books and a large parchment map held down by iron weights.
I wiped away the thin layer of dust covering the map.
It was a detailed tactical map of the border territory.
A series of underground trade tunnels was drawn in red ink.
The tunnels started deep beneath Oakhaven - a small border village nearby - and ran completely beneath House Voss’s tax checkpoints, leading straight into the southern territory of Aldemoor.
"A hidden trade route," I muttered.
House Voss didn’t know this tunnel existed. With this route, I could move supplies, grain, and men across the border without my corrupt father, Duke Reynard Voss, ever finding out.
I grabbed two dry woolen blankets from a chest in the corner and walked back into the bedroom.
I draped one blanket over Seraphina’s shoulders and sat on the edge of the mattress. I took her bare feet in my hands. Her skin was cold.
"What are you doing?" Seraphina asked softly.
"Massaging your calves to keep the blood moving," I replied directly.
I pressed my thumbs into her lower leg muscles, rubbing out the stiffness left behind by the paralytic curse. Seraphina let out a small gasp, her fingers clutching the fur blanket. Her face burned red, but she didn’t pull her legs away.
"It stings... but it feels warm," she murmured, looking at me with her golden eyes. "For three years, I thought I would die in a bed, Cassian. I thought I was useless."
"You aren’t useless," I said plainly. "You are going to take back your kingdom."
Isolde sat up beside us, wrapping her blanket around her chest. Her violet eyes were clear now, free of the dark film that had blinded her for years. She stared at my face, looking at me clearly for the first time.
"And what about my family?" Isolde asked, her voice dropping into a cold, bitter tone. "What about House Draven?"
I turned my head to look at her. "You haven’t explained everything about your family, Isolde. Why did they throw you away?"
Isolde bit her lip, her hands tightening on the blanket.
"House Draven is the master of shadow magic in this realm," Isolde explained directly.
"We control the continent’s secret spy network.
I was born with a rare Sovereign Shadow talent, which meant I was the rightful heir to the Duchy.
But three years ago, my father fell ill and lost his political power.
The three corrupt Council Elders of House Draven wanted total control of our money and intelligence network."
She took a deep breath, her eyes burning with anger.
"The Elders made a secret deal with Cardinal Malchior Vane.
They paid an assassin to poison my eyes with a neural shadow curse during a training ride.
The curse blinded me and locked my mana core.
Once I was disabled, the Elders stripped my title as heir, locked me in a tower, and started selling House Draven’s shadow intelligence straight to Cardinal Vane.
When you asked for a noble bride, they gave me to you like garbage."
I looked at her sharp, beautiful face and spoke plainly. "Then we will go to House Draven, kill those three elders, and take your family’s network back."
Isolde stared at me in surprise. The defensive barrier in her eyes melted away, replaced by genuine warmth. She reached out, her fingers gently touching my jawline before she leaned in and pressed her lips against my cheek.
"You talk like a brutal conqueror, Cassian," she murmured, her face inches from mine. "I like it."
A blue system panel flashed in my line of sight.
[Wife Investment System: Investment Logged]
Target: Seraphina Aldric & Isolde Draven
Action: Securing ancient subterranean keep, physical nerve rehabilitation, and acquiring hidden trade network map.
Grade: A
Reward Granted: ’Subterranean Territory Map’ & 350 System Points.
Current Balance: 2,350 System Points
I stood up and buckled my sword belt back around my waist. "Rest here. I’m going to check the keep’s ventilation hallway to make sure the air shaft leading to the surface is secure."
"Don’t be long," Seraphina said, her voice soft.
I left the bedroom and walked down the quiet stone corridor. I followed the passage toward the eastern wing, where the keep’s main ventilation shaft was located - a vertical chimney cut through the mountain rock to bring fresh air from the surface.
As I turned the corner into the ventilation control room, my boot stepped in something wet.
I looked down. A fresh trail of dark red blood was smeared across the stone floor.
My eyes narrowed. How is there fresh blood here?
I drew my shortsword, black mana rising along the blade, and pushed open the door to the control room.
Inside, a man lay slumped against the wall. He was dead, his throat torn open by wild animal bites. He wore leather armor stamped with the silver wolf emblem of House Voss.
The situation was instantly clear.
When Cardinal Vane’s squad had ambushed us in the cavern earlier, this Voss scout had been sent around the outside of the mountain ridge to find another way inside.
He had climbed down through the mountain’s upper air vent to scout the keep.
But when he dropped into this room, he had been ambushed and killed by the wild Shadow-Bane wolves that nested in the upper vents before I cleared them.
I knelt beside the dead scout. Clutched in his stiff right hand was a small copper communication cylinder. The crystal inside was glowing bright red.
He had triggered his emergency beacon right before he died.
I reached down and pulled a rolled parchment from his belt pouch. It was an official hunting order signed by my half-brother, Tristan Voss:
"Locate the disinherited bastard Cassian Voss. Kill the two crippled women on sight. Bring Cassian’s head back to Voss Keep."
CRACK!
The heavy iron grate in the ceiling above me was suddenly ripped open, showering the room with rusted metal and dust.
A massive figure dropped through the ventilation shaft, landing heavily on the stone floor with a loud metallic crash.
It was an elite Voss Executioner - a seven-foot-tall man clad in full dark steel plate armor, wielding a massive, two-handed battleaxe. His armor was covered in fresh wolf blood from the vents above, and his iron visor glowed with violent red mana.
He looked at me, his deep voice echoing loudly inside his helmet.
"Found you, bastard," the executioner growled, raising his heavy battleaxe above his head. "Lord Tristan sends his regards!"
Before I could step back, he swung the massive axe straight down toward my neck!