Free Web NovelChapter 223: Chapter 216 — When the Dragon Stopped Being Polite
Seven days remained before the ninety-day industrial review.
Two years and 282 days remained before the compulsory quest deadline.
Cedric’s men watched the relay for eleven hours before the enemy realized it had been found.
The site stood beside an abandoned freight spur west of Iron Junction, hidden among disused maintenance sheds, rusting cranes, and stacks of rail ties left to weather beneath the open sky. The main warehouse leaned slightly toward the tracks, its roof patched in several places, its windows boarded so long ago that moss had grown over the lower planks.
Nothing about it suggested importance.
That was precisely why Cedric had surrounded it.
The World-Seeker Compass hadn’t given them a street address or a name. It had preserved a magical direction — a chain of linked residues running through Elarion’s military freight network. Cedric’s investigators had followed that chain through altered manifests, false maintenance orders, and freight signals that looked routine until compared against one another.
The trail ended here.
Or, more accurately, it passed through here.
Cedric stood in an abandoned weighing office across the yard, watching the warehouse through a slit where a shutter had warped away from its frame. Lucien stayed beside him, while Gandalf and Maerath monitored a portable detection array set across the floor.
Aurethar waited in the adjoining loading shed.
He’d reduced his size enough to fit beneath the roof, though his folded golden wings still brushed two support beams. The building had creaked several times since his arrival, apparently uncertain whether accommodating a legendary dragon fell within its original design.
Cedric had ordered his surveillance teams to stay invisible.
Rail workers repaired a section of track that didn’t need repairing.
A produce wagon sat beside the southern road with one wheel removed, its owner loudly blaming modern craftsmanship.
Two charcoal wagons rested on the siding, each carrying soldiers beneath a false upper layer.
The relay had shown signs of life throughout the day.
Three couriers had entered.
One carried forged freight documents.
Another brought a metal case protected by concealment wards.
The third wore the coat of a railway inspector and never once looked at the rails.
None had left.
Maerath touched one of the Runesilver rods in the detection frame.
"A transmission."
Cedric looked toward him.
"Outgoing?"
"Compressed and masked inside a freight-control signal."
"Destination?"
Maerath shook his head.
"The relay is passing it through at least two false anchors."
Aurethar’s voice carried from the next room.
"They have spent too much effort making cowardice appear sophisticated."
Cedric glanced through the doorway.
"That sounded impatient."
"It was intended to."
"We need the people inside alive."
"You have said so repeatedly."
"We need the relay intact."
"You have also said that repeatedly."
"And we need them to lead us to the higher network."
Aurethar lowered his head until one golden eye filled much of the doorway.
"Then they should begin leading."
Cedric turned back toward the warehouse.
He had no intention of attacking too early. The previous sabotage cell had died before interrogation. These agents might carry the same failsafes, and a premature assault could produce another collection of bodies and unanswered questions.
He wanted the relay commander, the archive and most of all, he wanted the next connection in the chain.
The enemy made the decision for him.
Every Runesilver line on Maerath’s frame turned black at once.
Gandalf straightened.
"They’re severing the active links."
A red glow appeared behind the warehouse’s second-floor boards.
Smoke leaked through the roof vents.
Cedric’s hand rose.
Across the yard, the hidden assault teams prepared to move.
"They found the surveillance," Maerath said.
"No," Cedric replied. "They found enough to become afraid."
The glow inside the warehouse intensified.
"They’re burning the records," Lucien said.
Cedric dropped his hand.
"Move."
The freight yard erupted.
Soldiers emerged from the charcoal wagons. The false repair crew abandoned their tools and drew weapons. Mounted units closed both roads while another assault team advanced through the rear maintenance sheds.
Cedric crossed the open ground with the leading formation.
They’d covered half the distance when the warehouse’s defensive wards awakened.
Black fire rose from the earth.
It formed a curved wall around the building, high enough to hide the lower windows. The nearest soldiers stopped hard. One shield-bearer threw himself backward as the heat scorched the metal rim of his shield.
Gandalf stepped forward and raised both hands.
His counterspell struck the flames and held them in place, but the fire thickened rather than breaking.
"It’s feeding from buried anchors," he said.
Maerath studied the shifting runes beneath the flames.
"Several layers. The outer ward is only the visible one."
Cedric watched smoke pour from the warehouse roof.
"How long?"
"Three minutes," Gandalf answered.
"We don’t have three."
A heavy step sounded behind them.
Aurethar entered the yard.
He looked at the black flames, then opened a storage ring.
The weapon he withdrew appeared almost absurdly plain.
Its head was made from dark, unpolished metal. No jewels decorated it. No visible enchantment shone along the handle. It resembled the kind of hammer a village smith might leave beside an anvil, except that the air around it seemed unwilling to stay still.
Maerath stared.
"The Iron Hammer of Vaelor."
Cedric looked at the weapon.
"That’s the one from the old imperial records?"
Aurethar adjusted his grip.
"No. I carry a convincing imitation just in case enemies need encouragement."
Gandalf stepped away from the ward.
Aurethar swung once.
The hammer struck empty air.
The impact traveled through the entire defensive ring.
Every rune beneath the yard flashed at once. The black flames flattened outward, then vanished as the buried anchors shattered in sequence. Cracks raced across the ground toward the warehouse foundations.
The path stood open.
Cedric looked at the scorched yard.
"Subtle."
"You were taking too long."
The assault teams reached the main doors.
They opened before the soldiers could breach them.
Two figures charged out wearing black-crystal armor. Corrupted mana pulsed beneath their plates, and both carried heavy hooked blades built to drag men out of shield formations.
The first struck Cedric’s front line with enough force to drive three soldiers backward.
The second raised its weapon toward the exposed flank.
Aurethar crossed the distance before the blade descended.
The Iron Hammer struck the warrior’s chest.
The armor didn’t merely bend.
Every enchantment within it collapsed at once. Black crystal burst from the seams, and the armored figure flew backward through the doorway.
The second warrior turned.
Aurethar struck the hooked blade instead of the man.
The weapon shattered from tip to hilt. The remaining force traveled through the gauntlets and hurled the defender against the outer wall.
Cedric pointed.
"Alive."
Aurethar looked at the motionless body.
"He is alive."
"Preferably conscious."
"You keep adding requirements after the work is complete."
They entered the warehouse.
The interior bore little resemblance to the neglected shell outside.
False walls divided the main floor into narrow corridors. Corrupted wards covered support columns. Concealed channels carried smoke away from burning records while preserving the deeper rooms.
Cedric’s teams spread through the entrance.
"Archives first. Relay crystals intact. No one pursues alone."
A blade appeared from the wall beside him.
Cedric twisted aside.
An assassin stepped through a concealment veil, the weapon aimed for the gap beneath his jaw.
Aurethar caught the attacker’s forearm.
The blade stopped a finger’s width from Cedric’s throat.
Aurethar examined the dark liquid along its edge.
"Poison."
The assassin kicked at the dragon’s wrist.
Aurethar lifted him from the floor.
"Optimism as well."
He threw the man through the false wall.
The timber broke inward, revealing another corridor and three agents preparing an ambush.
Cedric looked through the opening.
"That was useful."
"I shall remember the praise."
A surge of corrupted mana passed beneath the floor.
Runes ignited along the corridor.
Maerath shouted from the entrance.
"Destruction lattice!"
A spatial barrier dropped across the center of the warehouse.
Two assault teams were cut off beyond it. The air distorted around them, stretching their figures into wavering shapes.
Gandalf began building a counter-pattern.
Aurethar raised the hammer.
Cedric caught his foreleg.
"The structure stays standing."
Aurethar looked down at Cedric’s hand.
Cedric released him.
"The archive is inside this building."
Aurethar turned the hammer and struck the edge of the spatial barrier rather than its center.
A single crack appeared.
The second strike broke the nearest anchor. The distorted air snapped back without bringing the ceiling down.
The trapped soldiers crossed through.
Aurethar looked toward Cedric.
"The structure remains standing."
"For now."
"You are becoming difficult to impress."
The defenders were not ordinary intelligence agents.
Several wore corrupted armor. Two mages fought from an upper walkway, shaping narrow spells suited to enclosed spaces. A summoned creature crawled across the ceiling, its limbs bending in too many places.
It dropped behind the rear assault team.
Gandalf turned, but the creature was already among the soldiers.
Aurethar opened another storage ring.
Black-gold chains flew from it.
They spread across the corridor like living serpents, wrapping around the creature’s limbs and torso. The summon crashed onto the floor. The binding circle beneath it flared, then broke as the chains suppressed the magic sustaining it.
Maerath’s eyes widened.
"The Chains of the Nameless King."
"Yes."
"They vanished after the fall of the Obsidian Throne."
"Who told you that,they were merely misplaced."
Cedric stepped over the bound creature.
"You’ve had chains capable of suppressing summoning and teleportation this entire time?"
Aurethar looked at him.
"You appeared to be enjoying the investigation."
The enemy mages completed their spell.
Corrupted lightning gathered between them and lanced toward the assault column.
Aurethar removed a small dark mirror from another ring.
The lightning struck its surface and vanished.
A heartbeat later, the spell returned through the same casting channel.
Both mages were thrown from the walkway when their focuses exploded.
Gandalf stared at the mirror.
"Most kingdoms would build a temple around that."
Aurethar returned it to storage.
"That explains why they accomplish so little."
Cedric’s soldiers moved behind the dragon, extinguishing fires, securing documents, restraining anyone left alive. Aurethar dismantled every defense in their path, but his speed threatened to outrun the intelligence operation.
Cedric called after him.
"Slow down."
Aurethar stopped.
"They’re destroying evidence."
"We need the rooms intact."
"Then mark the valuable rooms before people begin shooting from them."
Cedric pointed deeper into the warehouse.
"The command chamber. Relay core. Archive. Those stay standing."
"And the rest?"
"Try not to remove the roof."
Aurethar’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"I hear no confidence in my craftsmanship,mortal."
The next ward covered three corridors at once.
Aurethar broke only the central anchor.
The spell collapsed inward, leaving the surrounding walls intact.
Cedric noticed. He chose not to praise him twice in one operation.
They reached the relay chamber near the center of the building.
Black crystal rods surrounded a circular platform. Communication sigils moved across the floor in concentric rings. At the far side stood the relay commander.
He wore no armor,a narrow device covered one forearm, its surface alive with memory-erasing runes.
The man looked toward Cedric and smiled.
"You’re late."
Aurethar entered behind him.
The smile weakened.
The commander raised the device.
"If I die, everything I know dies with me."
Cedric stopped.
The artifact was linked directly to the man’s mind. A careless strike could erase the memories they needed even if the commander survived.
The man looked toward Aurethar.
"Even you can’t take me without destroying the trail."
Aurethar considered him.
Then he swung anyway.
The commander flinched.
The Iron Hammer struck the artifact, not the man.
Its runes shattered. The device broke cleanly into three pieces and fell from his arm without releasing its stored magic.
The commander stared at the fragments.
Aurethar opened one claw.
The Chains of the Nameless King crossed the room and wrapped around the man. They sealed his arms, suppressed his mana, and forced him to his knees.
Aurethar lowered his head.
"You speak too much for a man,i don’t even intend of remember."
Cedric moved closer.
"Don’t question him yet. Gandalf, Maerath — check every layer before he speaks."
The commander laughed.
"You still don’t understand."
The black crystal rods around the chamber brightened.
"This place is already gone."
The warehouse lurched.
The floor seemed to fall away while the walls stretched into impossible distance. A low roar passed through the foundations.
Maerath’s face changed.
"Spatial collapse."
"How long?" Cedric demanded.
"Less than a minute."
The relay wasn’t designed merely to burn.
It was designed to erase itself.
The active lattice would fold the warehouse into a contained void, taking the archive, the prisoners, the bodies, and everyone still inside.
Gandalf moved to the central sigils.
"I can’t unravel it before it closes."
Maerath joined him.
"The anchors are beneath the foundation."
Aurethar glanced toward the storage ring containing the Stillness of the First Hour.
The artifact hadn’t recovered from its previous use.
The luminous grain remained dark.
He opened another ring.
This time, he removed a black spike no longer than a man’s forearm.
Maerath stopped working.
"The Nail of the World."
Cedric looked at the warping chamber.
"What does it do?"
"Today?"
Aurethar set the point against the floor and raised the Iron Hammer.
"It stabilizes a warehouse."
He struck the Nail.
The sound passed through stone, space, and something deeper.
The spike drove through the floor and into the unseen boundary beneath the relay. The walls snapped back into their proper distance. The ceiling returned to its original height. The expanding void froze around the building without closing.
The destruction lattice remained active.
But now it could no longer move reality.
Maerath stared at the embedded artifact.
"That can anchor a dimensional breach."
"I know."
"You used it on a warehouse."
"The warehouse was becoming inconvenient."
Gandalf recovered first.
"With space anchored, we can dismantle the lattice."
"Then do so," Aurethar said. "I’d like my Nail returned."
It took fifteen minutes to disable the destruction core.
When the final corrupted channel went dark, Cedric’s forces controlled the relay.
Eight agents had been captured alive, including the commander. Three more were critically injured but breathing. The summoned creature remained bound. Most of the archive had survived.
Recovered material filled room after room.
Coded freight manifests,False identities,Payment records routed through merchant houses,Communication crystals,Lists of compromised officials,Maps marking additional relays along trade roads, rail junctions, and foreign borders.
Gandalf and Maerath inspected every prisoner before questioning. The Chains of the Nameless King suppressed the commander so completely that even hidden mana patterns beneath his skin remained dormant.
No execution seals activated.
Aurethar retrieved the Nail from the floor.
The warehouse groaned as space settled, but the structure stayed upright.
Cedric looked across the broken wards, shattered walls, and living prisoners.
"You were supposed to support the assault."
Aurethar returned the Nail to storage.
"And i did."
Cedric pointed toward the ruined main corridor.
"This is your definition of support?"
"Everyone you asked me to leave alive is alive."
Cedric looked toward the bound commander.
He couldn’t argue with the result.
Maerath approached, his gaze repeatedly drifting toward Aurethar’s rings.
"You used four legendary artifacts and the Iron Hammer in less than an hour."
"The hammer is a weapon."
"That distinction doesn’t make the total less unreasonable."
Aurethar covered the nearest ring with one claw.
"Dont give me that look again."
"I’m conducting professional observation."
"From a suspiciously possessive distance."
Gandalf joined them.
"The signatures released here will have traveled far."
Lucien looked toward Aurethar.
"How far?"
"Far enough for anyone important to recognize that something old was used."
"They may identify the hammer."
"Probably."
"The Chains?"
"Possibly."
"The Nail?"
Aurethar’s expression shifted.
"Anyone capable of identifying the Nail was already worth watching."
Major powers would ask why Aurethar had deployed treasures that nations considered irreplaceable.
Some would assume Elarion had access to his hoard.
Others would conclude he’d placed the territory beneath his direct protection.
Both interpretations would make Elarion harder to threaten casually but both would also draw attention.
Aurethar looked toward the captured commander.
"They touched what was under my protection."
For him, that ended the discussion.
Cedric entered the command archive.
A burned map remained pinned above a central table. He pulled it free and spread it across the surface.
Several relay sites had been marked across Elarion’s freight network.
Others lay beyond the kingdom.
The commander began laughing behind him.
"You think that matters?" he said. "You’re already too late."
Aurethar rested the Iron Hammer against one shoulder.
"Is this mortal threatening me?."
Cedric studied the marked sites.
"No."
He placed one finger on the nearest relay.
"It was information."
The commander stopped laughing.
Outside the archive, soldiers prepared pursuit teams. Maerath copied magical communication signatures while Gandalf reinforced the prisoners’ suppression fields.
Aurethar had entered the operation to stop one relay from erasing itself.
His fury had left Cedric with prisoners, documents, intact links, and a path into the wider network.
The world feared Aurethar for the treasures he guarded.
That day, Elarion learned what happened when he decided to use them.
