A loud crash echoed through the outpost as a stack of crates toppled near the eastern wall. Guards shouted in confusion, their attention snapping to the noise.
“What the hell was that?” one of them barked.
“I don’t know! Go check it out!”
As a group of guards moved toward the sound, Neres struck. He darted from the shadows, slashing at the back of a lone guard’s knee before disappearing again. The man crumpled with a yell, clutching his leg.
“Over there!” another guard shouted, pointing toward where Neres had been.
But Neres was already gone, slipping behind another guard and incapacitating him with a swift strike. The remaining guards began to panic, their formation unraveling as they struggled to locate the unseen assailant.
From her perch, Mori loosed an arrow, the mana-infused projectile striking a guard squarely in the chest. He fell without a sound, the light fading from his eyes.
“Nice shot,” Neres muttered under his breath, catching sight of her work as he moved toward the outpost’s main gate.
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With the outer defenses in chaos, Midas and Boreas moved in. They darted through the open gate, their movements swift and precise. Inside, the outpost was a hive of activity. Guards scrambled to respond to the commotion, but the pair cut through them like a blade through water.
Boreas’s Warden’s Fang glinted in the dim torchlight, the golden shortsword slicing cleanly through armor. He moved with the practiced efficiency of a veteran, each strike calculated and devastating.
Midas fought beside him, his Celestial Armor flaring as he deflected blows and retaliated with bursts of cosmic energy. His movements were fluid and precise, each attack perfectly timed.
The guards quickly realized they were outmatched.
“Fall back!” one of them shouted, but Boreas was faster, cutting him down before he could retreat.
The group regrouped inside the main storehouse, where the stolen goods were kept. Crates and barrels lined the walls, stacked high and marked with symbols none of them recognized.
“This is it,” Mori said, her voice grim. “Everything they’ve taken from the townsfolk.”
“And more,” Midas added, opening one of the crates. Inside were weapons—swords, spears, and crossbows, all in pristine condition. “They’ve been arming someone. Or preparing for something.”
Neres picked up a small pouch from another crate and opened it, his eyebrows raising. “Gold. A lot of it. Someone’s paying them handsomely for this.”
Boreas clenched his fists. “The question is, who?”
“We’ll figure that out later,” Midas said. “Right now, we destroy everything. No supplies, no power.”