Kai moved with the reckless abandon of a cornered animal, using the woman's sonic attack against her. The concentrated waves of sound, while painful, created acoustic dead spots in the corners of the corridor. He hugged the wall, maximizing his low-profile movement. The woman, focused entirely on maintaining the unstable magical channel, didn't immediately track his movement.
He saw Rook stagger back, collapsing heavily against the opposite wall, clutching his ears. The sonic disruption had effectively taken him out of the fight temporarily. Kai was the only variable left.
"Stop right there!" the woman shrieked, finally noticing Kai's flanking maneuver. She tried to pivot the pulsing crystal toward him, but the rapid adjustment momentarily destabilized the energy field. A high-pitched, painful screech erupted from the crystal, making Kai wince and momentarily slowing his charge.
Now or never, he thought.
He didn't rely on his innate magic. Instead, he reached into his sleeve and produced the roll of specialty adhesive, designed for temporary sound dampening. This material, a heavy, pliable compound, was intended for quick-fix structural noise control, not magical combat, which made it perfectly unpredictable. As he closed the final distance, he launched the entire roll—a heavy, dense cylinder—straight at the woman's chest.
The woman cried out in surprise and pain as the roll struck her, momentarily disrupting her breath and, more critically, her focus. Her hand spasmed, and the crystal she held—her focus point for the Sonic Disruptor ability—tilted sharply. The magic, now uncontrolled, immediately spiked and turned in on itself. A blinding flash of blue light followed by a sharp, cracking sound, like glass shattering, erupted from the crystal. The magical feedback stunned her hands, and she screamed, dropping the crystal. The sonic field instantly vanished.
Kai didn't give her a chance to recover. He swept his leg low, executing a perfect trip. The woman hit the floor hard, the air knocked from her lungs. Before she could regain her senses, Kai had secured her wrists with a quick length of high-tension carbon wire, binding her efficiently to a nearby floor drainage grate. The wire was thin, strong, and nearly invisible in the dim light.
"Told you," Kai muttered, adjusting his hood. "Non-lethal. Just... quiet now."
He rushed to Rook, who was gingerly pushing himself up, his movements stiff and unsteady.
"Loud," Rook rasped, rubbing his temples. "Very loud. Effective counter. The brute force approach was… smart." He took a moment to pull himself fully upright, his dark eyes—now fully visible and alarmingly intense—flashing with pain. "The door. Now. My ears won't last another minute."
Rook moved with renewed urgency, pulling Kai toward the archway where the first guard had been stationed. Beyond it was a short flight of steps leading to the study. The reception noise was louder here, creating useful ambient cover.
The vault door was magnificent—a polished expanse of rune-etched steel, nestled into the back wall of the luxurious, if temporarily empty, study. It was protected by a thick, complex locking mechanism involving five separate dials and a shimmering blue layer of visible arcane energy.
"The mana siphon," Rook breathed, pointing at the blue sheen. "Try to touch the lock and your entire magical reserve will be gone in three seconds. That's where I come in."
Rook opened a compartment in his utility belt and pulled out a small, box-like device made of darkened wood and silver wiring. He placed it carefully on the ground a foot from the vault door, activating it with a silent press of a button.
The box began to emit a low, oscillating red light. As the light hit the blue mana siphon, the blue sheen flickered, warped, and then began to shrink, drawing itself back like water from a porous surface.
"It's a localized counter-flow inhibitor," Rook explained, his voice strained. "It generates a non-magical field that forces the siphon to draw its power inward, collapsing the ward. It will hold for seven minutes. That's all the time we have."
Kai pulled out his tools, focusing on the physical lock. Rook provided the specific combination sequences, having memorized them from the blueprints. The lock was a masterpiece of old-world engineering, requiring absolute precision.
Click. The first dial was set.
Click-click. The second followed.
As Kai worked the third dial, the rhythmic thudding from the corridor outside the study door intensified. The main patrol was approaching.
"Someone heard the sonic feedback," Rook muttered, glancing nervously at the study door. "They're not subtle. I need a distraction."
Kai glanced at the four ornate ceramic vases sitting on a nearby mahogany table. He had no time to debate the non-lethal mandate—damage to property was irrelevant now.
He focused his mind for an attack, with a sharp aim he threw the tool case it was fast but not too fast for rook to calculate his next move
WHOOSH.
The four vases crashed on the floor in the room with shocking force, The noise was deafening, immediately drowning out the sound of the approaching patrol and, more importantly, focusing their attention on the door.
"Perfect," Rook hissed, already turning back to the vault. "Third dial, Kai! Hurry!"
Sweat beaded on Kai's forehead. He returned to the lock, his hands moving with the acquired precision of years of training and study. He was racing the clock, the counter-flow inhibitor flickering ominously, and the heavy thudding on the other side of the study door transforming into frantic scraping and shouts.
Click. The third dial turned, followed immediately by the fourth.
Only the final, most complex dial remained. He heard the door burst inward behind him, splinters flying.
"Stop them! They're at the vault!" a voice roared.
Kai ignored it all. He shut out the shouting, the pounding footsteps, the heavy presence of the guards flooding the study. He focused solely on the feel of the tumbler, the microscopic shift of the internal mechanism. He was no longer Kai, the desperate student; he was pure mechanism, pure focus.
Click...
The fifth dial rotated the final degree. With a heavy, satisfying metallic THUNK, the colossal locking bolts retracted.
"Got it!" Kai shouted, throwing his body against the door. The thick steel slab groaned open, revealing the small, interior vault chamber.
Rook was right behind him. "Get the artifact! I'll hold them."
Rook spun around, not drawing a weapon, but slamming his hand onto the floor near the vault entrance. A shimmering, green field instantly expanded, sealing the vault chamber with a rapid-hardening polymer ward—a quick-set physical barrier.
Kai burst into the vault. It was a small, pressurized space, smelling of ozone and antiquity. Resting on a velvet pedestal, bathed in a solitary beam of light, was the Pyrope artifact.
It was not a weapon or a jewel, but a delicately wrought, hand-sized ceramic sculpture of a stylized salamander, its surface glowing with a faint, internal orange light—the encapsulated energy of fire magic. It pulsed, warm and vital, a captured piece of the Pyrope family's power.
He snatched the Salamander, stuffing it securely into an inner pocket sewn for this exact purpose. The orange light warmed his chest.
The pounding on Rook's green polymer ward was already deafening.
"I have it!" Kai yelled.
"Then move!" Rook roared back, his breath heavy, already straining to maintain the improvised physical shield. "The tunnel! Go!"