The stench of salt, humidity, and rotting timber grew thicker with every step down the narrow alleys leading to the docks.
Whale-oil torches, encased in iron lanterns, cast elongated shadows across the river’s murky waters.
Massive cargo barges built with black-oak frames lay moored to the pilings, swaying rhythmically with the tide.
Haruto and Aoi came to a halt atop the roof of an abandoned grain warehouse overlooking the Inquisition’s private pier.
Protected by the deep shadows and the complete suppression of their auras through the Dual-Circuit Link, the two watched in silence.
“I’m reading twelve,” Aoi transmitted through their mental link, her blue eyes reflecting a faint, almost imperceptible violet sheen.
“Twelve guards on the outer perimeter with heavy crossbows.
Four knights on the main gangway wearing the crest of the Order of the Black Sun…
and something else inside the main barge.” “It’s the holy fuel shipment,” Haruto replied, refining his analytical mana perception to scan the thermal signatures inside the ship.
“A massive container of refined mana harvested from reincarnates.
If the Shadow Hunters are guarding that vessel, they intend to ship it out toward the Holy Capital tonight.” “If that fuel reaches Cardinal Lucian, it will sustain the Anchor of the End even longer,” Aoi said aloud, her voice dropping into a sharp, quiet seriousness as her hand tightened around the burlap-wrapped hilt of her broadsword.
“We are not letting that ship leave Valoria.” “We’re not just stopping it, Aoi.
We’re taking it.
The river course cuts straight across the Merchant League border and leads directly to the southern lands.
It’s the perfect transport.” Haruto traced an invisible rune across his left palm.
Azure mana flowed with the weightlessness of silk, spreading along the warehouse roof’s wooden beams without generating the slightest friction.
“Here’s the plan,” Haruto began, projecting a mental blueprint of the vessel into Aoi’s mind.
“We infiltrate using a pulse of Localized Gravitational Inversion.
I’ll neutralize the snipers on the right flank by altering their projectile vectors.
You take the gangway.
No loud attacks; the goal is to secure the helm before they can reach the bridge’s magical alarm.” “And the figure inside the barge?
I feel a presence far heavier than the average soldier,” she noted.
“An Inquisition Sub-Commander.
Someone Lucian left behind to oversee the shipment.
We take him down together using Primordial Resonance.” Aoi flashed a quiet, confident smile as she felt the comforting surge of Haruto’s mana intertwining with her soul’s vital energy.
“Lead the way, analyst.” Without making a sound, both leaped into the void.
A drop from a twelve-meter rooftop would have alerted any ordinary guard by the sheer noise of the impact.
Yet, the instant their boots were about to touch the pier’s wooden planks, Haruto activated the first layer of the Ancient Way.
Their acceleration dropped to zero in a microsecond, allowing them to land as softly as feathers drifting on a breeze.
Two guards were patrolling less than three meters away, carrying crossbows loaded with blessed silver bolts while peering into the mist rising off the water.
“Did you feel that?” one whispered, coming to a stop.
“It’s just the river wind.
Keep moving, the Sub-Commander wants the vessel ready before midnight.” Before the guard could take another step, Aoi materialized behind him like a phantom.
She wrapped her armed forearm around his neck, blocking his carotid artery with surgical precision infused with crimson energy.
Simultaneously, Haruto executed a fluid strike with his shortsword, hitting the pressure point on the second soldier’s nape.
Both men collapsed unconscious at the exact same moment without uttering a single groan.
Haruto caught them by their breastplates and dragged them quietly behind a stack of spice crates.
“Two down,” Aoi transmitted.
“Ten left on deck.” They glided through the shadows of the landing plank.
The main barge—christened The Creator’s Judgment—was a black-teak wooden behemoth featuring three decks and a hull reinforced with iron plating.
In the center of the ship stood a massive, reinforced glass cylinder emitting a sickly golden glow: the stolen spiritual energy used to power the Church’s machinery.
Aoi gritted her teeth at the sight of the tank’s glow, her soul resonance instinctively reacting with a spark of rage.
“That light…
it reeks of pain,” Aoi whispered through her mind.
“I know,” Haruto answered, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to steady her pulse.
“We’ll release that energy the moment we take control of the ship.
First, we secure the deck.” They moved toward the portside ladder.
Just as Haruto set his foot on the first rung, however, the air around the deck turned bone-chillingly cold.
A dark crimson runic glow flared along the mainmast’s beams.
A soul-detection trap.
CLANG!
A bronze bell sounded from the top of the command tower, echoing across the entire port of Valoria.
“Intruders on deck!” a deep voice roared from the upper structure.
“Lock down the access points!
Don’t let them near the container!” The remaining ten guards drew their longswords in a single, synchronized motion, while an imposing figure clad in golden plate armor and a scarlet cape stepped out from the main cabin: Sub-Commander Vane.
Aoi looked at Haruto, her grip tightening on her broadsword as a fierce look settled in her eyes.
“Well, looks like the stealth plan was short-lived.” “Plan evolution,” Haruto replied with absolute composure, drawing his shortsword as the blue runes on his hands glowed intently.
“Direct sweep.
Three minutes.”