"You're out of your depth, warden," Vane sneered, his massive shoulders rolling as he hefted the void-wrapped mace higher. "The Council's patience ran out an hour ago. Lucivar owns this entire sector now, lock, stock, and crumbling stone.""Ownership implies legal standing," Aetherion countered, his grip tightening on the ash-wood handle of his hammer until his knuckles cracked. "What you have is a demolition crew trespassing on condemned property with expired permits.""Permits?" Vane laughed, a harsh, bark-like sound that echoed off the damp cliff walls. "Let's see how your permits hold up against six hundred weight of black-powder charges wired directly into your foundation pillars!"With a feral roar, Vane lunged forward, the void-tainted wire wrapping his mace humming with a low, nauseating frequency that set Aetherion's teeth on edge. The mercenary closed the distance in three massive strides, bringing the spiked iron head down in a vicious overhead arc ai

"They're scattering like rats," Cassian observed, stepping out from the shadow of the terrace archway with a bloodied handkerchief pressed against his jaw. He spat a streak of red into the dirt, wincing as he straightened his tailored waistcoat. "Though I must say, watching you deposit Vane into the mud was the finest piece of architecture you've managed all week, Aetherion.""My masonry is cleaner," Aetherion replied, breathing heavily as he lowered his hammer. The ash-wood handle was slick with sweat and river silt. He glanced past Cassian toward the main courtyard, where the massive stone archway stood proud and steady against the gray sky. "Is the perimeter secure?""For the moment," Cassian said, tucking the ruined handkerchief away with a grimace. "Your bailiffs fled the moment Vane hit the ground, and Lucivar’s local informants are currently developing a sudden, overwhelming urge to relocate to the capital. But don't celebrate just yet. The structural inte

"The Vault of the Archival Guild?" Cassian echoed, his voice pitching an octave higher as he stared down at the map. "Aetherion, be entirely serious with me for a single moment. That isn't some moldy cellar in the salt flats or a pile of rubble on a windy ridge. That is Elodie Immortelle's primary headquarters. It has three-inch-thick steel-plated doors, round-the-clock magical wards, and enough bureaucratic oversight to choke an entire battalion of bailiffs.""Which is why we aren't going in with crowbars and explosives," Aetherion replied, his voice flat and unyielding as he tapped a finger against the inked parchment. "We are going in through the front entrance, wearing clean coats, carrying official credentials, and acting like we belong there."Zinnia crossed her arms, leaning over the stone wall to inspect the map herself. A faint amber light flickered across her knuckles, a remnant of her kinetic energy settling down after the morning's skirmish. "And where, exa

"Lucivar," Cassian drawled, stepping deliberately into the space between the merchant and the map table, though his posture remained uncharacteristically defensive. "How delightfully unexpected. Usually, when rats infest a property, they have the decency to chew through the floorboards at night rather than sauntering through the front gate wearing stolen waistcoats."Lucivar didn't even blink. He adjusted his cuffs, his dark eyes sweeping over Zinnia’s dust-streaked tunic and Aetherion’s worn leather harness with undisguised contempt. "Always the comedian, Cassian. I suppose humor is the only currency you have left now that your little financial bets are cratering faster than this wretched gravel spit.""If you're here to recite your own press releases, save your breath," Zinnia snapped, her voice cutting through the crisp morning air like a whetted blade. The amber light dancing across her knuckles didn't dim; if anything, it burned brighter, humming with

"Trading insults is far too exhausting," Lucivar said smoothly, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. "The Guild Council has set the terms. A forty-eight-hour build. Each team must construct a fully functional, self-sustaining spatial archway using a strictly limited allotment of raw stone and basic tools. No imported magic. No pre-fabricated keystones. Pure, unadulterated masonry."Zinnia’s amber light flickered sharply. "Forty-eight hours? With raw stone? That's impossible to do properly without heavy mechanical winches.""Which my firm has brought in bulk," Lucivar countered with a triumphant smirk, turning toward the grand archway of the courtyard where his syndicate guards were already unloading crates of polished granite blocks. "While you two scavenge for river pebbles, my architects will be erecting a monument. See you at the judging, Wardens."With a sharp pivot, Lucivar strode out of the terrace, his guards marching in lockstep beh