The debate stretched through the night as they analyzed every possible approach to the palace. Jacob spread intelligence reports across the tunnel floor—guard rotations, patrol patterns, defensive positions compiled from Thomas's military knowledge and information purchased from his cousin in the palace kitchens."Direct assault is impossible," Leo stated flatly. "They have three hundred guards on duty at any given time. We have twenty-two fighters, most of us wounded or exhausted. The mathematics do not work.""Stealth infiltration then," someone suggested. "Use the tunnels to get close, eliminate guards silently, reach the throne room before they realize we are there."Roseline shook her head. "Verons is expecting infiltration. He said so himself. The moment we engage even one guard, alarms sound and the entire palace responds. We would be trapped underground with no escape route."Anna traced ward patterns on her makeshift map. "The mystical defenses complicate everything. Even if

The descent seemed endless. Down stone stairs worn smooth by centuries of prisoners dragged to their fate, past cells where skeletal hands reached through bars, through corridors that grew progressively darker and colder until they reached a level that felt more like a tomb than a prison.The guards stopped before a reinforced door. One of them produced an ornate key and unlocked multiple mechanisms with practiced efficiency. The door swung open to reveal a chamber that made Jacob's stomach turn.This was not a cell. This was a torture room designed by someone who understood pain intimately. Chains hung from walls at heights calculated to maximize joint stress. Tables bore implements whose purposes were horrifyingly obvious. Drains in the floor spoke of cleaning blood that flowed regularly enough to require permanent infrastructure."Welcome to your new home," the officer said, showing genuine pleasure at their discomfort. "Lord Verons will be down shortly. I suggest you use the time

Jacob lunged toward Verons, mystical energy gathering in his hands for a strike that would end the tyrant's life. But Verons had not survived decades of brutal politics and warfare by being slow or unprepared.He whistled sharply, and the guards who had frozen in the doorway snapped into coordinated action. They were not ordinary soldiers. These were specialists trained specifically to handle mystical threats, and they moved with the confidence of people who had done this before.Nets woven with suppression enchantments flew through the air from multiple directions. Jacob tried to dodge but the chamber was too confined, the nets too well-coordinated. They wrapped around him, and the moment the enchanted material touched his skin he felt his mystical energy disrupting, fracturing, becoming impossible to control properly.He still fought. Even weakened, even tangled in nets designed to neutralize his abilities, Jacob was dangerous. He threw two guards into walls hard enough to crack sto

The old man's eyes focused on Jacob with recognition that cut through whatever fog of pain or exhaustion had been clouding his awareness. His face was deeply lined, weathered by years of suffering, but the features were unmistakable. This was Marcus Krigg, Jacob's uncle who had supposedly died in the initial assault on the family compound."Jacob," Marcus said, his voice thin but clear. "You look just like your father did at your age. I had hoped you were dead, safe from all this. But of course you came. The Krigg bloodline never did know when to quit."The guards shoved Marcus against the bars of Jacob's cell so they could speak face to face, though they remained chained and separated. Jacob studied his uncle with a mixture of relief and horror. Marcus had survived, but at what cost? The man before him was a shadow of the strong, confident leader Jacob remembered from childhood."They told me everyone died," Jacob said. "The reports were conclusive. The entire family wiped out in coo

Three days. Seventy-two hours before Verons performed a ritual that would destroy everything within a thousand miles and possibly beyond. Jacob forced himself to think tactically despite the crushing weight of that deadline. Panic would accomplish nothing. Action might."We need to break out," Jacob said, stating the obvious. "All of us, right now, before Verons moves forward with his plans.""Impossible," Sarah repeated from her cell. "We have been trying for years. The chains cannot be broken, the wards cannot be bypassed, and even if we somehow got free, there are guards between us and any exit.""Nothing is impossible if you are willing to pay the right price," Jacob countered. He turned to Commander Chen. "You said you have been here five years. That is five years of observing guard patterns, shift changes, supply deliveries. You must have learned something useful."Chen was quiet for a moment, then spoke carefully. "There are patterns. Small ones that might be exploitable if we