They were not given a tour of the palace.
The mont they stepped down from the cabin, they were escorted directly toward the teleportation chamber.
William and Emma could sense the urgency in Rowman’s stride. He wasted no motion, no word. That alone told them how grave the situation at the northern front must be.
They followed him in silence until they reached a grand altar not far from where they had disembarked.
William studied the structure briefly. "This is not the main teleportation portal of the palace, is it?"
He was certain the chief strategist would not casually reveal the King’s personal gateway.
Rowman replied calmly, "This is the one generally used. The primary portal inside the palace is reserved for ergency situations."
He gestured for them to step onto the altar.
William and Emma complied. Rowman joined them, along with the soldier who had accompanied him during yesterday’s eting.
A mage stood ready nearby.
Without further delay, aether surged to life.
Silver brilliance engulfed the four of them, wrapping around their bodies in a spiraling glow. The air distorted. Space folded.
William had experienced teleportation before, and so had the others. None of them reacted to the familiar warping sensation as their physical forms were pulled across vast distance.
In the span of a few heartbeats, they had traveled from the capital to the northern border of the continent.
The light receded.
They found themselves surrounded by ard soldiers, spears raised, eyes sharp with suspicion.
Rowman remained composed.
"Grey mouse, trapped thrice," he stated evenly.
The tension eased imdiately.
It was a password.
One soldier stepped forward and gave a crisp salute to the chief strategist.
"We have been awaiting your arrival, Sir Rowman."
William studied the soldier who had spoken.
Nearly six feet tall, broad-shouldered, his powerful build visible even beneath layers of tal armor. A deep scar ran down his left brow, and a burn mark scarred the right side of his chin. His presence alone demanded caution.
A seasoned warrior.
"Captain Grovers," Rowman acknowledged. "Report."
William and Emma stepped down from the altar and followed them into an adjoining chamber.
It appeared to be a strategy room.
A massive map covered the central table, while weapons and spare armor lined the surrounding walls. The atmosphere was heavy with urgency.
William approached the table and examined the map.
It depicted the northern border in detail. Across it, several red markings had been drawn in long streaks.
"Death Sinks," he muttered.
Emma moved closer, her eyes widening slightly as she traced the lines.
"They stretch this far?" she asked quietly.
If the scale on the side was accurate, those crimson streaks extended across nearly an entire kiloter.
That was not just concerning.
It was catastrophic.
"There are only five confird Death Sinks," Rowman spoke up, his expression tight with unease. "But their spread across such a wide area has completely disrupted our prior calculations."
"But how is that possible?" William asked, his brows drawn tight. "I was there in that town where more than six Death Sinks appeared in succession. Even then, they were not stretched across such a distance."
And perhaps that had been the reason the border town survived.
The length of a Death Sink directly influenced the spawn limit of the devils erging from it. The longer the fracture, the greater the force required to suppress what ca through.
Here, the stretch was massive.
Captain Grovers answered, his tone steady but grim. "It is an anomaly. But with the number of unusual phenona occurring across the world lately, we can no longer call such events entirely unexpected."
Rowman nodded in agreent.
"The situation has grown increasingly chaotic," he said. "At this rate, it will not be long before civilians are forced to abandon their hos and live in fortified shelters. Leaving them unguarded and exposed is no longer an option."
Emma and William exchanged a silent look.
With each passing day, the world seed to edge closer to collapse.
Then Captain Grovers spoke again, his voice lower now.
"Is it true that you possess a thod to draw out the ranked devils at once?"
William turned toward him and gave a faint nod.
The captain’s steel-cold eyes wavered.
For the first ti since they had arrived, sothing cracked through his hardened composure. Hope.
"Then please," Grovers said, his voice tightening. "Help us. I have already lost many of my brothers in these past few days. If this continues even one more day... we will not endure."
There it was.
A sign of how dire the situation truly was.
Moisture gathered at the corner of a soldier’s eyes.
Grovers had lost comrades to the devils. Others had perished to the brutal northern cold. Yet he could not fall beside them. He had been ordered to remain behind, to keep sending fresh troops into zones where death awaited.
To command n into the jaws of annihilation... and survive.
That burden weighed heavier than any armor, any battle.
William drew in a slow breath, steadying himself before nodding firmly.
"I understand. Leave it to ."
Rowman let out a controlled sigh and pointed at the western edge of the map.
"You will head to this post first. It has the highest concentration of activity."
His finger tapped against the marked region.
"We will arrange your transportation and provide equipnt to maximize your safety. Your task is simple. Draw the ranked devils out and retreat imdiately."
Captain Grovers stepped forward, his voice carrying sharp conviction.
"The mont that bastard crawls out of that pit, my n will tear him apart."
His jaw tightened.
"Do not hesitate. Lure them out and fall back at once. Leave the slaughter to us."
William listened to their warnings and what he must do and what route he should be following even if the transportation failed mid-way.
They knew he could fly so they weren’t worried about his journey from one post to another.
William gave one final nod before saying, "I understand. I will begin the end of this war as soon as I reach there."
°°°°°°°°
A/N:- Thanks for reading.
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