Chapter 89 - Four Guardians

Arden refused to leave.

Etzel had expected tears.

Relief.

Maybe collapse.

He got:

“No.”

Rusk stared through the bars.

“We came to extract you.”

“No.”

Etzel looked at the three spectral guardians behind Arden.

One carried a shield.

One a spear.

One looked like a woman in robes with both hands raised.

All translucent.

All exhausted somehow.

Saeva floated closer.

The guardians looked at her.

Not hostile.

Curious.

Etzel looked back at Arden.

“Your sister is alive.”

Arden’s face broke for half a second.

Then hardened again.

“I heard you.”

“Then why are we arguing?”

“Because if I leave, the lower pens open.”

Etzel closed his eyes.

Naturally.

“Explain.”

Arden pointed beneath his cell.

“The Gravehound was not the only prototype.”

Rusk muttered something rude.

Etzel approved.

“How many?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ranks?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why does your presence keep them contained?”

Arden looked at the guardians.

“My fourth guardian.”

Etzel counted again.

Three.

“Where?”

“Below.”

Silence.

Etzel’s mood changed.

“What happened?”

“They used Liora to find me. I severed our active link before they could reverse it.”

His voice shook on her name.

“Then they brought me here. They wanted to understand why my summons persisted after distance, why they could make choices without constant commands.”

Etzel looked at DK.

Orsik looked back.

Familiar theme.

Different ability.

Arden continued.

“I had four guardians. They took the strongest.”

“Name?”

Arden hesitated.

“Bastion.”

Not a personal name.

A role.

Maybe the guardian had another.

Later.

“What did they do to Bastion?”

“Made him the lock.”

Etzel’s jaw tightened.

The lower prototypes were contained by a stolen summon.

Arden stayed because leaving might collapse the bond holding the containment.

“How long?”

“Six months.”

Tessa whispered:

“You’ve maintained a summon as a containment anchor for six months?”

Arden laughed once.

“Maintained?”

He raised his scarred arm.

Silver lines ran from wrist to shoulder.

“They maintain me.”

Etzel looked closer.

Menagerie conduits.

Arden was wired into the facility.

Not voluntarily.

If they simply cut him free—

The lower pens might open.

Again.

Menagerie loved rescue traps.

Etzel was developing professional hatred.

“Can we transfer the lock?”

Arden looked at him.

“I tried.”

“To what?”

“Anything.”

“Wrong question.”

Arden frowned.

Etzel crouched beside the bars.

“What does Bastion actually do?”

“Hold the doors.”

“Physically?”

“No.”

“Territory?”

“No.”

“Ability suppression?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

Arden looked tired.

“He tells them they cannot leave.”

Etzel stopped.

“That works?”

“They believe him.”

Rusk stared.

“That is the containment system?”

Arden shook his head.

“Not belief like persuasion. Bastion’s ability is… law inside a defended position.”

Etzel’s eyes narrowed.

Not Unfinished Law necessarily.

Different architecture.

“Claimed Ground?”

“No. He doesn’t own territory.”

Interesting.

“Protection?”

“Yes. Maybe. He chooses something to defend. Then crossing toward it becomes harder.”

Etzel looked at the floor.

Bastion had been turned into a living ward.

“Can he choose to stop?”

Arden’s expression became painful.

“I don’t know if he is still choosing.”

He remembered that.

A lot.

Etzel stood.

“We go down.”

Renn’s voice exploded through comms.

“No.”

Etzel touched his earpiece.

“We cannot extract Arden without understanding the lock.”

“You have completed reconnaissance and eliminated an A-Rank threat.”

“And found the extraction target attached to another containment system.”

“Hold position. Reinforcements are inbound.”

“How long?”

“Forty minutes.”

Etzel looked at Arden.

Then the silver lines in his arm.

Tessa checked him.

Her face tightened.

“He doesn’t have forty minutes.”

Renn went silent.

“How long?”

“Unknown. His pulse is unstable. The Gravehound’s death changed something.”

Arden nodded.

“The power stopped.”

The extraction lattice destruction.

The site had been running on reserve.

The Gravehound’s collar may have been part of the same system.

Now Bastion’s containment was drawing directly from Arden.

“Then we have less time.”

Renn hated it.

Etzel could hear that.

“Observe only. Do not engage lower threats unless required.”

“Understood.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

This time he meant it.

The bars opened from Arden’s side.

No lock.

He had never been physically imprisoned.

He had been tethered by responsibility.

Etzel understood that kind of cage.

They descended.

Arden walked with Tessa supporting him.

His three guardians moved around them.

Shield ahead.

Spear rear.

Robe beside Arden.

Saeva stayed near Etzel.

DK, wounded but functional, took point beside the shield guardian.

Two summons from different abilities.

Neither spoke.

Both understood formation.

Etzel smiled.

Then stopped.

Not the time.

The stair ended at a circular chamber.

Four doors.

Three closed.

One bent inward.

At the center stood a man.

Huge.

Armored.

Transparent like Arden’s other guardians.

Both hands pressed against a black pillar.

Silver cables entered his back.

Bastion.

His head lifted.

Arden stopped breathing.

“Bastion.”

The guardian looked at him.

For six months of torture, distance, forced containment, and whatever Menagerie had done—

Bastion smiled.

“Late.”

Etzel froze.

He spoke.

DK’s eyes narrowed.

Arden laughed and cried at the same time.

“I’m sorry.”

Bastion looked at the three guardians behind him.

“Still ugly?”

The spear guardian raised one hand.

Bastion laughed.

That helped.

People.

Not assets.

Not constructs.

Etzel looked at the black pillar.

Four symbols.

One for each door.

Three dim.

One flashing.

The bent door.

Something hit it from inside.

Bastion’s arms shook.

“Talk fast,” he said.

Etzel stepped forward.

“What happens if we disconnect you?”

“Doors open.”

“If Arden leaves?”

“Bond weakens. Doors open.”

“If we destroy the things behind the doors?”

“Then I go home.”

Simple.

Finally.

Etzel looked at the bent door.

“How many?”

Bastion smiled without humor.

“Behind that one?”

“Yes.”

“One.”

Etzel waited.

“That sounded too easy.”

“It ate the other six.”

There.

“Rank?”

“C when they put it in.”

The door bent again.

System pressure leaked through.

B.

Upper B maybe.

Growing.

Etzel looked at DK’s damaged armor.

Tessa’s fatigue.

Arden’s condition.

Rusk’s remaining ammunition.

Saeva’s dimmer light.

This was not a fresh team.

Correct answer?

Wait for reinforcements.

Could Bastion hold?

The door bent.

Black pillar cracked.

No.

“Renn, lower pen active. One probable B-Rank. Bastion containment failing.”

“Reinforcements twelve minutes out.”

Better.

Twelve.

Can hold twelve?

Etzel looked at Bastion.

“How long?”

“Ten.”

Rusk laughed once.

“Of course.”

Etzel looked at the room.

Do not fight if not needed.

Delay.

Contain.

The moment gave Etzel something he had learned to value almost as much as an answer: time to check whether his first interpretation was wrong. One detail kept returning to him: It also kept him alive often enough to continue being annoying, which he considered a secondary but meaningful benefit. It had felt simple while he was reacting to it. In retrospect it carried more than one possible explanation, and Etzel had paid enough for certainty to stop buying it cheaply. He separated observation from inference on purpose. What he had seen remained useful. What he thought it meant remained provisional.

Orsik watched the process without interrupting until Etzel finally looked up. “You can say it.”

“I was waiting to see whether you would notice it yourself.”

“That is an extremely inefficient form of support.”

“It worked.”

Etzel disliked that answer because it did. The correction went into the plan instead of his pride.

But it required tension.

They had plenty.

“Then we buy two minutes.”

Bastion looked at him.

“Who are you?”

“Etzel.”

“Rank?”

Etzel paused.

“Not relevant.”

Bastion laughed.

“I like him.”

DK said:

“Unfortunately.”

The bent door split.

A claw emerged.

Huge.

Gray.

Covered in mouths.

“Positions!”

The first mouth screamed.

Not sound.

Force.

Rusk’s shield cracked.

Saeva tumbled.

Etzel’s ears rang.

The creature pushed through.

It had once been feline.

Maybe.

Now six legs.

Three jaws.

A long body stitched with stolen ability marks.

That helped.

Not upper B.

Still bad.

It lunged.

DK intercepted.

Greatblade struck jaw.

The Devourer’s second mouth bit the blade.

Third mouth opened toward Orsik’s chest.

Shield guardian stepped in.

Spectral shield blocked.

The impact drove him backward.

He did not break.

Bastion shouted:

“Bran!”

A name.

Shield guardian.

Bran pushed.

DK pulled.

Together they tore the blade free.

Etzel moved.

The Devourer’s side showed six ability marks.

One lit when it screamed.

One when it bit.

One dark.

Three unknown.

Do not attack randomly.

It turned toward Arden.

Naturally.

Summoner.

Priority target.

Spear guardian moved.

Fast.

Spectral spear pierced the creature’s shoulder.

No blood.

The Devourer absorbed part of the weapon.

The guardian jerked.

“Back!” Arden shouted.

Too late.

One ability mark lit.

The spectral spear shortened.

Devouring summoned structure.

Etzel saw it.

“Don’t let it bite summons!”

DK changed stance.

Bran stepped back.

Saeva stopped approaching.

That helped.

The creature’s name was literal too.

Menagerie really needed writers.

Etzel attacked physically.

Spear into rear leg.

The Devourer turned.

That helped.

It could be distracted by non-summons.

Rusk fired.

Tessa moved Arden behind the pillar.

The Devourer screamed.

Force wave.

Etzel ducked behind black stone.

Rusk’s shield broke completely.

One scout went down.

Alive.

Tessa moved.

Etzel watched the screaming mouth.

Ability mark lit before mouth opened.

Charge.

Two seconds.

Maybe one and a half.

Could interrupt.

Next scream.

Mark lit.

Etzel threw a broken collar fragment from the Gravehound.

Hit the mouth.

The Devourer bit reflexively.

Scream failed.

There.

“Throw things at the center mouth when that mark lights!”

Rusk looked at him.

“Your strategy is feed it trash?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.”

The fight became ridiculous.

Effective.

Metal.

Broken concrete.

Empty magazines.

Anything.

Every time the scream charged, something entered the mouth.

The Devourer bit.

Ability interrupted.

It became angrier.

That helped.

Angry enemies repeated themselves.

The bite mark lit.

The creature went for DK.

Orsik stepped away.

Bran presented shield.

“No!” Etzel shouted.

Bran stopped.

The Devourer missed.

Its bite closed on empty air.

The ability mark stayed lit for half a second after.

Window.

Etzel stabbed the mark itself.

Not magical logic.

Physical target.

The spear struck scar tissue beneath it.

The creature screamed normally.

The mark flickered.

Witness appeared.

There.

Not one weakness.

A combat rule.

“When a mark lights, that area becomes soft!”

DK understood.

Rusk understood.

Arden’s guardians understood from movement alone.

Next scream charge.

Trash into mouth.

Mark lit.

DK struck the neck beside it.

Deep cut.

Next bite.

Miss.

Bran shield-bashed the glowing jaw interface.

Crack.

Next ability.

A mark near the rear legs lit.

Etzel did not know what it did.

He did not wait to find out.

“Saeva!”

She pushed the glowing area sideways.

The Devourer teleported.

Half its body went one direction.

Half another.

Not literally.

But badly.

It crashed into the wall.

Etzel laughed.

“Movement ability.”

Saeva laughed too.

“Bad movement.”

The Devourer rose.

More wounded.

More dangerous.

Bastion shouted:

“Five minutes!”

Reinforcements seven.

Need two more.

Again.

Always two.

Etzel’s Level 17 body helped.

Not dramatically.

His reactions were cleaner.

Breath returned faster.

He noticed.

That helped.

The difference should be felt.

Not invincibility.

The Devourer changed tactics.

Stopped using abilities.

Charged physically.

Smart.

It went for Rusk.

Etzel intercepted.

Spear shaft against claw.

Bad leverage.

The weapon flew.

Claw hit his side.

Armor tore.

He hit the floor.

The Devourer turned toward him.

No spear.

Short blade.

Too short.

DK was engaged with another leg.

Bran moving.

Saeva preparing pressure.

Etzel saw the dark ability mark.

Unused.

Why dark?

Maybe passive.

Maybe unavailable.

The Devourer opened all three mouths.

Not ability.

Just teeth.

Etzel rolled under the first.

Second snapped beside his head.

Third—

A spectral hand grabbed his collar.

Robe guardian.

She pulled him backward.

Teeth closed on empty floor.

Etzel looked up.

“Thank you.”

She nodded.

Arden shouted:

“Her name is Mira!”

“Thank you, Mira!”

She smiled.

The Devourer turned.

Saeva hit it.

DK cut a foreleg.

Bran shielded.

Team.

Not his team only.

Two summoners.

Seven companions.

One ugly monster.

Etzel recovered the spear.

“Bastion!”

“Three minutes!”

Renn:

“Reinforcements four!”

Naturally.

Etzel looked at the black pillar.

Crack widening.

Need one minute beyond Bastion.

Could Sanctuary protect the containment?

Maybe.

But finite capacity.

Already dimmed.

And this was Bastion’s chosen defense.

Better not overwrite.

Could reinforce existing protection with consent?

He understood the concept from Kestrel Sink.

But Bastion was a person.

Ask.

“Bastion! Can Sanctuary reinforce your protection without taking control?”

Bastion stared.

“You have Sanctuary?”

“Long story!”

“Will it own the line?”

“No!”

“Then yes!”

Consent.

Scope.

Etzel called the Tree.

Green light appeared.

Smaller than before.

“Only the existing doors. No change to Bastion’s bond. No ownership.”

Green light ran through the black pillar.

Bastion inhaled sharply.

The cracks stopped.

Not repaired.

Held.

Cost.

Fine.

Bastion looked at Etzel.

“Two more minutes.”

Perfect.

“Renn?”

“Two minutes.”

For once, numbers agreed.

The Devourer attacked.

Etzel smiled.

“Now we don’t have to kill it.”

DK looked almost disappointed.

“Contain?”

“Contain.”

They changed goals.

Bran and DK pushed.

Saeva redirected.

Rusk fired legs.

Etzel targeted glowing graft interfaces only when necessary.

Mira kept Tessa and Arden protected.

The spear guardian—Arden shouted his name, Vale—pinned the Devourer’s rear limb without letting his spectral weapon enter a mouth.

The creature fought.

Hard.

B-Rank.

Strong enough to kill Etzel if he got careless.

Not strong enough to beat everyone before the clock.

Then boots thundered on the stairs.

Authority reinforcements.

Two B-Rank Hunters.

Six C-Ranks.

Containment gear.

Renn’s voice:

“Hold.”

Etzel laughed.

“We did.”

The new team hit the room like a machine.

Barrier.

Cable launchers.

Kinetic suppression.

The Devourer roared.

One B-Rank Hunter drove it backward.

The other sealed the bent door with a portable field.

Thirty seconds later, the monster was contained.

Not dead.

That helped.

Etzel leaned against the wall.

Tessa pointed at him.

“Sit.”

He sat.

No argument.

She looked suspicious again.

Arden reached Bastion.

Silver cables still entered the guardian’s back.

Now specialists worked around them.

No cutting.

No guessing.

Transfer first.

Halven arrived remotely through a drone and talked too fast.

Etzel stopped listening after confirming they had a plan.

Bastion looked at him.

“Level?”

Etzel sighed.

“Seventeen.”

Bastion stared.

Then laughed so hard the black pillar shook.

“You’re joking.”

“No.”

“You came down here at seventeen?”

“I had supervision.”

DK looked away.

Rusk coughed.

Tessa said:

“No, he did not.”

Etzel pointed at her.

“Medical confidentiality.”

“That is not what that means.”

Arden smiled for the first time.

That helped.

The extraction took twenty-seven minutes.

Bastion came free.

The moment the last silver cable disconnected, his body flickered.

Arden caught him.

Not physically.

Bond.

The guardian dissolved into gray light and entered Arden’s chest.

Not dead.

Returned.

The other three followed voluntarily.

Arden collapsed.

Tessa caught him.

System message appeared before Etzel.

No XP line yet.

Then:

Fine.

No Level 18.

Absolutely not.

Another message.

Etzel closed it.

Enough.

Then Limited Necromancer pulsed.

He froze.

That helped.

Not every rescue needed loot.

Instead:

Etzel narrowed his eyes.

Not an ability.

Not upgrade.

Knowledge.

His Necromancer had observed another summoning architecture.

Interesting.

Later.

Much later.

He closed the interface.

When they returned to the surface, night had fallen.

Liora was waiting behind the Authority line.

Renn had lost that argument.

Arden saw her.

Stopped.

Liora saw him.

The unlocked silver chain fell from her wrist.

She had removed it herself.

Then she ran.

Arden barely had time to open his arms.

They collided.

No System message.

The System offered nothing.

No explanation.

Etzel looked away.

Saeva did not.

She cried openly.

DK stood beside Etzel.

“Worth the reconnaissance?”

Etzel watched brother and sister hold each other after six months.

“Yes.”

Then Sivenne’s voice came through his communicator.

“Etzel.”

He closed his eyes.

“What?”

“I heard something.”

“Dangerous opening.”

“You reached Level 17.”

Etzel looked at Tessa.

She raised both hands.

“Not me.”

Maerin’s voice joined.

“Authority report.”

Traitors.

Sivenne continued.

“You promised I would get to celebrate first.”

“I promised nothing.”

“You implied.”

“Legally meaningless.”

“I am going to kill you.”

Etzel looked at DK.

“See? This is why I fight monsters.”

Sivenne heard him.

“Tomorrow. Dinner. Everyone.”

Etzel paused.

Dinner.

Family?

Friends?

Normal life?

He had nearly forgotten.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

The call ended.

Renn approached with a data slate.

Etzel pointed at him.

“No.”

“I haven’t spoken.”

“No reports tonight.”

“This is not a report.”

Etzel narrowed his eyes.

Renn handed him the slate.

One line.

Menagerie client ledger.

A buyer had purchased information on summoners three months before the raid.

Not a person.

An organization.

Etzel read the name.

THE PALE COURT.

He looked at Renn.

“Do we know them?”

“No.”

“Are we researching them tonight?”

“No.”

Etzel smiled.

Renn was learning too.

“Tomorrow?”

“After dinner.”

“Excellent.”

Etzel handed the slate back.

The Pale Court could wait one night.

Level 17 could wait.

The Gardener could wait.

Varethis could wait.

The unwritten rule of death could wait.

Tonight, Liora had her brother back.

And tomorrow, Etzel had dinner with people who would probably insult him for surviving.

He had changed anyway.