Six months had passed.

  Within the subspace, life had become one of rigorous discipline. Aelric had ensured that this was the bare minimum amount of time they needed before stepping into the outside world again. They could not afford carelessness. Veyne and Kaela had to be prepared. He had to be prepared. The warriors had to be ready for anything. And just as important, they had to give the Order time to search in vain, to grow complacent in their failure to find them.

  Veyne had undergone a transformation. His raw talent had always been undeniable, but now it was honed into something truly dangerous. Training under the warriors, sparring against Kaela, and learning from Aelric himself had turned him into a fighter who no longer relied solely on instinct. He had mastered the sword far faster than anyone expected, absorbing every detail of movement and adapting with alarming speed. With the fire blade in hand and his natural strength, he had become a force to be reckoned with.

  Kaela had not fallen behind. Speed had always been her greatest weapon, and she had pushed it to new limits. Her spear danced like a blur, striking with precision and power. But Aelric’s words still remained with her—there were stronger spear-wielders in the world. That thought had driven her forward, forcing her to refine her technique beyond what she thought possible. She was still playful, still confident, but there was a sharper edge to her now. She would not allow herself to be surpassed so easily.

  Beyond them, Aelric had taken the time to build something greater. From among the warriors, five exceptional individuals had risen—ones he had personally chosen to lead.

  Dain Varros, the silent hunter, whose arrows never missed their mark. His ability to track and read enemy movements made him a crucial scout and long-range specialist. Orlan Keth, a towering warrior with monstrous strength, wielding a battle-axe that could shatter steel. He was their frontline, a wall against any enemy. Selia Rynn, whose twin blades flowed like water, unpredictable and deadly. She moved through the battlefield like a ghost, striking where enemies least expected. Bast Renholm, the battlefield tactician, wielding chains and throwing weapons to control the fight, creating openings and dictating the flow of combat. Elya Soren, their guardian, gifted in healing magic and barriers, ensuring that their warriors could fight without fear of falling.

  These five were the foundation of what Aelric was building. They would lead their own squads when the time came.

  But for now, they would remain hidden.

  Only Aelric, Kaela, and Veyne would step outside. They had waited long enough. The Order had been searching, but with no trace of them, they would eventually move on. Now was the time to act.

  Their destination—an elusive forest spoken of in whispers and forgotten texts. A place said to be guarded by spirits. If the rumors were true, it could mean allies. It could mean a hidden sanctuary.

  The air was thick with dust when they stepped out of the subspace, re-entering the physical world. The ruins of the temple lay before them, a haunting reminder of what had been lost. The stone pillars that once stood proud were now crumbled heaps, barely recognizable. Sunlight cast long shadows across the wreckage, the remnants of a civilization buried beneath time and destruction.

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  Veyne exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “Feels weird to be back.”

  Kaela kicked a stray piece of rubble, nodding. “Yeah. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

  Aelric surveyed the landscape. The ruins were undisturbed, meaning the Order had not returned to investigate. That was good. It meant they had bought themselves time. But time was never infinite.

  “We move,” Aelric said simply.

  As they walked, Aelric gave them a firm instruction. “We won’t be using the subspace often. And we won’t be sleeping in it.”

  Veyne looked at him, confused. “Why? Isn’t it the safest place?”

  “It’s one of my best hidden cards,” Aelric said. “And I can’t afford to make it known—not with so many eyes watching. If people see us vanishing into thin air or escaping danger too easily, they’ll start to suspect something. The Order is relentless. We need to move like ghosts, not give them a reason to track something unknown.”

  Kaela nodded in understanding, but Veyne still seemed disappointed. Sleeping in the wild would be much harder.

  “But what about—” Veyne stopped himself, glancing at the villages in the distance. Starving people. He knew what Aelric was saying without saying it. They couldn’t afford to help.

  Aelric’s gaze darkened. “There’s nothing we can do yet.”

  Their path took them through the barren wastelands beyond the ruins, an arid stretch of land that had long been abandoned by any form of civilization. The ground was cracked and uneven, the wind carrying whispers of past lives lost to the Order’s merciless grip.

  For the first two days, their journey was uneventful—only the silence of the land accompanied them. But the further they traveled, the more signs of life began to appear. Sparse forests lined the edges of their path, and the remnants of old roads hinted at long-forgotten trade routes.

  On the third night, they encountered their first sign of the world’s continued suffering.

  A small village, half-abandoned, lay in their path. The houses were worn-down, the people thin and lifeless. Those that still lived walked like shadows, their eyes dull, their expressions empty. It was as if they had long since abandoned the concept of hope.

  Veyne clenched his fists. “The Order did this, didn’t they?”

  Aelric didn’t need to answer. They all knew. The Order’s control stretched far and deep, ensuring that those who were not obedient were broken beyond repair.

  Kaela exhaled. “We should keep moving.”

  They didn’t stop to interact. Not because they didn’t care—but because there was nothing they could do. Not yet.

  And yet, Aelric lagged behind as they moved through these villages. Each time, he would let Veyne and Kaela walk ahead, giving them orders to scout ahead or make camp. And while they were gone, he would approach the people—offering what little he had. A piece of dried meat. A handful of grain. A small flask of water.

  It was nothing in the grand scheme of things. It would not save them.

  But it was something.

  Kaela and Veyne both noticed. They never said anything, but sometimes, they would glance back at him, watching. And sometimes, they would smile.

  The next week passed in relative quiet. Aelric led them through careful paths, ensuring they avoided any signs of patrols. The Order’s presence was everywhere, but their absence for six months had given them the advantage of being ghosts.

  Then, finally, on the twelfth day, they reached their first real clue.

  A merchant, battered and worn, had spoken of a distant village where warriors had once entered a certain forest—and never returned. The villagers believed the forest was protected by spirits, unseen forces that warded away outsiders.

  It was the first solid lead they had.

  But Aelric knew better than to assume it would be easy.

  “We’ll keep moving,” he said. “But we don’t rush in blind. We gather information first.”

  Veyne grinned. “So we finally get to fight something?”

  Kaela smirked. “Don’t get too excited. I’m still faster than you.”

  Aelric remained quiet, gazing toward the distant horizon.

  The Order had ruled for too long. But for the first time, they were moving against it.

  And he would make sure that when they struck—it would count.

  Chapter 18 ends