Chapter 1568: They Meet Again (Part 1)

In total, there were four groups operating across Alterian, each on separate missions but all working toward the same end.

The first was Alen’s team, which included Beatrix. They had successfully infiltrated a facility tied to both the Cerebus Guild and Gizin himself, uncovering evidence capable of shattering the Grand Magus’s public image.

The second was Varkos’s unit, assigned to secure the allies already in place and protect the existing network that funneled information between all factions.

Then there was Raze and his group, who were stationed in the Underside world. Their job was to cure the afflicted members of the Underside while gathering critical intelligence to guide the other missions. In fact, it was through Raze’s investigations that they had first discovered the special facility Alen and Beatrix had raided.

And finally, there was Harvey’s strike force, which included Mordain, the War Magus. Their purpose was direct confrontation, to attack and trap the Cerebus Guild’s main forces, slowly dismantling their power.

Each group had completed its task in one way or another. Some more violently than others.

Now, it was time to regroup.

Only the core leaders would attend this meeting, descending once again to the Underside, the true base of the Dark Guild, while the rest of the military units remained above ground, on standby for further orders.

At that moment, Raze was already seated inside one of the grand meeting halls built into the back of the rebuilt cathedral. The chamber was vast, illuminated by the warm glow of rune-lamps that shimmered along the curved walls. In the center sat a great round table large enough for every leader to gather around.

Raze waited quietly, joined by the familiar faces of his allies from Pagna.

“I’m a little worried about Beatrix,” Safa admitted, breaking the silence. “I know she’s strong, and she wasn’t assigned to the direct assault, but still, who knows what she might have run into out there? What if they crossed paths with the Grand Magus himself?”

Raze leaned back slightly, his golden eyes narrowing. “If that happens, they’re to inform me immediately,” he said. “No hesitation. Although exposing the crimes of the Grand Magus to the world is important, what matters most is stopping them. That goal hasn’t changed.”

His tone was calm, but beneath it burned the same cold fury that always surfaced whenever the Grand Magus was mentioned.

“I’ll do what needs to be done,” he continued, “whether the world sees it as right or not.”

Everyone at the table exchanged quiet looks. Raze had mellowed over the months, less explosive, more calculating, but whenever the Grand Magus came up, his anger resurfaced like a scar that would never heal.

“Still,” he added after a moment, “I doubt Beatrix will have much trouble. I know what’s inside her… and I don’t think that thing intends to die. Not until it fulfills its purpose.”

At that, everyone knew exactly what he meant: the Bloody Woman.

The air grew heavier until the creaking door at the far end of the hall opened.

Varkos entered first, greeting them all with a nod. They held off on speaking in detail, no one wanted to repeat explanations twice, so he simply took his seat, waiting for the others.

On his way through the Underside, Varkos had noticed something different.

The people.

Their eyes no longer looked hollow. Their faces carried traces of hope. For the first time, smiles flickered in the narrow alleys and open courtyards. The atmosphere felt lighter, alive.

Something that had been a permanent wound in Alterian for so long was slowly healing. And all because of what these outsiders had done.

The realization made Varkos’s chest tighten. We’ve been living under the wrong system all this time, he thought. The Grand Magus’s rule isn’t order, it’s control.

Moments later, the doors opened again.

Beatrix stepped through, followed closely by Alen.

The room seemed to breathe in unison when they appeared. It was clear from their half-smiles that the mission had not been easy. Their expressions carried exhaustion, loss, and quiet triumph all at once.

“Beatrix,” Safa said quickly, rising from her seat. “I was worried about you.”

The two women met halfway around the table.

They had grown close since arriving in Alterian, the only two women from Pagna among a group of battle-obsessed men. They often shared conversations about things the others didn’t understand, from the strangeness of this world to their homesickness for Pagna’s skies.

Safa missed that comfort deeply.

The men were another story entirely.

Liam, for example, couldn’t go a single day without making jokes, most of them crude, especially when it came to his missing eye and his supposed “mysterious charm.” Safa had once tried to offer healing for his injury, thinking she could help, but he refused every time, saying it was “a conversation starter.”

Then there was Dame, whose idea of small talk always turned toward his “tragic bachelor life” and the many things he claimed to have “sacrificed for the mission.”

She cared for all of them, of course, but traveling with a group of men who alternated between flirting and self-pity could be exhausting.

So seeing Beatrix again, alive, safe, and calm, brought her a rare sense of relief.

“I missed you,” Safa said with a smile.

Beatrix nodded softly. “It’s good to be back.”

They both turned when the next sound echoed from the hall.

The heavy door creaked open one final time, and a tall man stepped through. His presence immediately shifted the atmosphere.

Harvey.

He strode into the room with his usual confidence, the faint smell of gunpowder and magic still clinging to his coat.

“It looks like everyone’s already here before me,” Harvey remarked, his voice deep and casual.

Alen crossed his arms. “Everyone but one.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Alen asked. “Where is Mordain?”

****

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