The descent into the fissure was silent, except for the faint scuff of boots against the smooth stone and the occasional grunt of exertion as the mages were forced to stabilize the path. The group moved deeper into the earth, illuminated by faintly glowing runestones carried by the mages. Oliver stayed close to Leonard, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his sword.

  “I don’t sense any surprises. Our path should be clear, but don’t lower your guard.” Leonard murmured, echoing faintly in the cavernous space.

  Oliver nodded, adjusting his pace to match his mentor’s. Behind them, the rest of the team followed. Any levity was long gone, as they all understood the very real risk of the leyline blowing up upon being damaged. Oliver knew not everyone understood why they were here, but he was glad his group hadn’t hesitated to follow along.

  The air grew heavier as they descended, as the oppressive weight of the World’s mana pressed on their bodies. It was quite unlike anything else he had ever experienced.

  Whenever the System manifested its might, it was universally considered a glorious moment. The World rarely influenced people’s lives actively, but when it did, it was all everyone could do to stand still and weather it. Deliberately seeking out a leyline to damage it was so far out of the realm of possibility that he could only default back to trusting Leonard knew what he was doing.

  Every so often, a mage would smooth a particularly treacherous section of the path with a whispered spell, allowing the group to continue their rapid advance. Despite the precautions, Oliver’s heart raced. The ground felt alive beneath his boots, pulsing faintly with energy.

  Its density was such that it distorted the light and allowed him to see their tagalong. He had known one would follow, of course, but hadn’t been able to pinpoint its location so far.

  “So,” Oliver whispered, glancing at the shadow elemental’s faint figure gliding alongside them. “What’s the situation outside?”

  The others looked at him weirdly for a moment before shifting in surprise as they saw it emerge.

  The shadow paused, its amorphous form shifting as if considering the question. Its voice was a low, rasping whisper, like wind through dry leaves. “The city stirs. Soldiers swarm the airfields. The sky buzzes with preparation. Some may suspect the Lightbringer’s actions… but they do not have a clear picture. It is fear of the unknown that drives them.”

  Oliver gave a faint smile, and his eyes glinted with satisfaction. He hadn’t doubted his mentor’s plan, but knowing it was working as intended was good.

  Next to him, Lucy gulped. Considering how nervous she been that morning, she was doing very well, but this mission was straining her despite her best efforts.

  Oliver allowed his fingers to brush hers, and she smiled, relaxing her shoulders a bit.

  They hadn’t spoken of what they were, as war was not the time to work out their feelings, but the companionship was nice.

  The path steepened, and the oppressive atmosphere intensified. Faint, flickering colors began to emerge from the depths, painting the walls in hues Oliver could scarcely describe: greens that shimmered like molten emeralds, purples with the texture of crushed velvet, and reds so deep they seemed to devour the light. The colors danced and twisted, defying logic, and Oliver found himself averting his eyes, a dull ache forming behind his temples.

  “Don’t look too long,” Leonard warned, though he seemed unaffected. “The World’s essence can unravel the mind if you’re not careful. It is not for mortals to gaze upon.”

  That only raises more questions, but I guess they will have to be postponed this time, too.

  Finally, the group reached the end of the fissure. The cavern opened into a vast chamber, its ceiling lost to the darkness above. The light here was blinding in its vibrancy, an endless cascade of colors spilling forth from the leyline below.

  Oliver froze, his breath catching in his throat. Just twenty feet away, a torrent of raw power flowed, an infinite river of light and energy carving through the earth. The air hummed with intensity, a soundless vibration that Oliver felt in his bones.

  This was not a place humans were meant to see.

  The mana pressure here was overwhelming, acting as a crushing force that made every step feel like wading through a current. Around him, the others faltered, their faces pale and strained. Even the mages, accustomed to manipulating mana though they were, seemed on the verge of collapse.

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  Given his high affinity to the Light, Oliver considered himself the sturdiest of the lot, yet even he was starting to strain. His mind rebelled at the thought of stepping back, but he might not have a choice.

  Then, Leonard extended his aura.

  The oppressive weight lifted as a soothing warmth enveloped the group. Leonard’s presence was everywhere, filling the cracks Oliver hadn’t even noticed forming in his mind. It pushed back the overwhelming wrongness, creating a haven in the chaos.

  Oliver gasped, feeling immediate and profound relief. He straightened and hurried to stand beside his mentor, light and quick-footed now that his mind was no longer at risk of breaking.

  “Thank you,” he murmured.

  Leonard didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the leyline below. His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with purpose. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said softly. “And yet, it can be used for horrible acts. I could just pluck it for myself, and Hassel would stop existing. This much power, unchecked… it’s no wonder the ancients feared leylines as much as they revered them.”

  Oliver nodded, though he struggled to find words to describe what he was seeing. The leyline seemed alive, a writhing mass of energy that defied comprehension. Colors shifted and merged, creating new hues that Oliver was confident shouldn’t exist. The torrent roared silently, its power palpable even from their vantage point.

  “Can it even be damaged?” Oliver asked, his voice hushed. “It feels too grand to be affected by us.” Even though he wasn’t at risk of breaking down now, he could still tell that he was infinitesimally small compared to the World’s veins.

  “Grand, yes. Indestructible, no. Leylines are resilient, but they are not immune to disruption. A precise enough strike can destabilize their flow, temporarily severing their connection to the gestalt. That’s all we need.” Leonard said without shifting his gaze.

  Oliver tore his eyes from the leyline, feeling his doubt fade as he looked at his mentor. If anyone could accomplish such a feat, it was the man beside him.

  “I’ll watch your back,” Oliver said once he was sure his voice wouldn’t waver despite his feeling of awe.

  I’m probably about to see the most significant work of magic a human can aspire to.

  After all, that was what magic was. The imposition of one’s will upon the World. What could be greater than inflicting a wound on it?

  Leonard placed a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, reassuring. “I know you will. Now, be prepared to deal with anything that might come while I work.”

  The chamber fell silent as he stepped forward, his form framed by the kaleidoscopic brilliance of the leyline below. The air seemed to hold its breath, the oppressive hum of mana vibrating just beneath the threshold of sound. Oliver watched as he inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling. When he opened his eyes, they burned with molten gold, radiant and terrifying.

  “Listen carefully,” Leonard said, making everyone straighten instinctively. Oliver could feel a pressure just under his sternum. His fingers tingled, and he had to fight the instinct to kneel. “What you see here today—what I do here—you must take to your graves. Speak of it to no one.”

  Oliver was the first to answer. Without hesitation, he agreed. “I swear, Grand Marshal. Whatever happens here will die with me.”

  The others followed, echoing the same oath. Leonard studied them as if measuring the sincerity of their words. After a tense moment, he nodded.

  Oliver couldn’t take his eyes off his mentor, but he knew he would find the same reverence he felt should he have looked at the others.

  “Good,” he said. “Now, stand back. I will do my best not to let anything reach you, but should you be caught in the clash, you will cease to exist.”

  The group retreated, forming a wide semicircle behind him. Leonard drew his sword. The sacred blade caught the fractured light of the leyline and transformed it into blinding radiance. The weapon seemed alive in his hand, thrumming with latent power.

  It knew and approved. Whatever was happening here was right and holy.

  Oliver’s breath caught as Leonard raised the sword, its tip pointing toward the leyline. At first, nothing seemed to happen. But then the air shifted, an almost imperceptible shiver running through the chamber.

  The World groaned.

  Cracks spread through the fabric of reality, jagged lines that snaked through the air like living things. The leyline surged in response, flaring violently as if rebelling against the intrusion. Oliver’s stomach churned, and a primal instinct screamed at him that something was deeply, fundamentally wrong.

  How could he stand there and watch as the World trashed and screamed? Was he not its child?

  Before he could act on those feelings, golden warmth washed over him, chasing away the wrongness like sunlight banishing shadows.

  Oliver blinked, restoring his vision just in time to see the impossible: a titanic blade of golden energy materializing through the leyline. Its presence dwarfed anything he had ever imagined. It shimmered with divine light, and where it fell, the World parted.

  The leyline quaked under the assault, the rushing torrent splitting in two as the golden blade drove deep into the earth. The power that had once flowed freely now churned and twisted, forced downward into the cracks, its brilliance dimming to a muted glow.

  The pressure in the room shifted again, less oppressive but still heavy. Oliver couldn’t tear his eyes away from the golden construct that now stood embedded in the leyline. Something told him that what he was seeing was only a minor part of what was happening, yet it was more than enough.

  Even without profound knowledge of this matter, Oliver could tell that the leyline had been significantly weakened. Its once-overwhelming energy now felt distant and restrained, and he knew instinctively that it would take a long time for it to recover fully.

  The golden blade, however, remained. Its presence ensured that the leyline could not be healed unless someone managed to remove it. That was not a feat any mortal would be capable of.

  Leonard exhaled, lowering Dyeus as the molten glow faded from his eyes. His posture relaxed slightly, though his expression remained grim.

  “It is done,” he said. Oliver heard some strain in his voice for the first time, but the man recovered remarkably quickly, “The wards above will weaken as their power supply dwindles. The city’s protections won’t hold for long.”

  A murmur of awe rippled through the group, but Leonard silenced it quickly. “Don’t celebrate yet,” he said. “This was only the first step. We still have to get out of here—and quickly. Prepare to climb.”

  Oliver stepped forward, his gaze lingering on the golden blade embedded in the leyline. “Will it stay like that?” he asked. Something about the blade called to him. It felt familiar.

  I am but a child playing in the mud before the greatest of masters.

  “For a time,” Leonard replied. “The construct is self-sustaining. It will fade once we have taken the city.”

  Unspoken went that should they not win, it would remain there and forever condemn Hassel.

  As they turned to leave, Oliver cast one last glance back. The blade gleamed silently in the darkness, a beacon of power and defiance.

  With a deep breath, he turned and followed Leonard.

  The battle of Hassel had only just begun.