Chương 217

The research pavilions and alchemical triage tents were being quickly dismantled. Witches in combat leathers sprinted across the courtyard, carrying crates of volatile crystals and bundles of healing potions. The stabilized teleportation circle in the center of the camp flickered constantly, but it no longer only brought supplies in. Instead, it pulled resources back to the Sanctum and deployed enchanted robes and armor that he recognized as belonging to vanguard squads.

Clearly, something significant had changed in the few hours they'd been gone. Orion didn't wait for an explanation from the perimeter guards and bypassed the lower-ranked witches, his purple eyes fixed on the large command tent near the peak's center. The heavy defensive wards shimmering around the canvas parted just enough to let him slip through, recognizing his bloodline signature, and he signaled for the others to wait.

"I'll learn what's going on and come back," he said before walking in. Inside, the atmosphere was stifling. Asteria stood at the head of a planning table, where the topographical map of the Silvermount range had been pushed aside, and in its place, a large, glowing projection of the entire northern continent dominated the space.

Standing around the intangible structure were the translucent holograms of other high-ranking witches, projecting in from the Sanctum and across the territory, through similar artifacts to the one in Last Thaw. They didn't appear to be in the middle of a discussion at the moment, so he took the chance to approach and make himself known.

"Mom?" Asteria looked up, and for a moment, he saw only coldness. She was completely unfeeling, and it almost seemed like she hadn't recognized him until something flickered behind her eyes, and warmth returned.

"We cleared the Glacial Crown," he explained, placing the satchel on a nearby table.

"And the canister has been secured. But what's happening outside? Why is the camp mobilizing for an evacuation?" Not even glancing at the bag, Asteria shook her head.

"The clean-up operation is being relegated to a secondary priority," she said, with a finality that made the hairs on Orion's arms stand up.

"Secondary?" he asked in disbelief. Although the operation had been going smoothly so far, they still had more than half of the canisters to find. Why would they pull back now, when they were making such good progress? Obviously, because something even more pressing has taken place.

"We have no confirmation yet, but we think this whole ordeal was meant to bog down our forces and keep us from noticing what was happening just beyond our borders," she said grimly. Gesturing at the map, she pointed to a sprawling, deep-green area northwest of the Silvermount range. It was a vast, ancient forest that bordered the outermost territories of the Sanctum, a region Orion knew very little about beyond what he read in the basic books everyone else studied from.

The druids of the Ironwood Forest were called Sentinels and were known to be very reclusive, so that wasn't so strange, but apparently, their isolation had come at a cost.

"Three hours ago, we lost all contact with the Ironwood Sentinels," Asteria stated grimly.

"The scrying pools went completely black. The teleportation anchors have been violently severed, and even our agents have gone silent. Whether dead or incapacitated, we do not know, but it is clear something massive has happened." Orion stared at the map in shock. Considering the directions the Iron State had come from so far—meaning through the Belt in the case of Behenien and her handler, and the south for the infiltrators—he'd absolutely not expected them to make landfall northwest.

And I have to imagine that is what has happened. The Ironwood Sentinels are a major faction on par with the Adamantine Forge and the Radiant Vigil when it comes to raw power. Despite their seclusion, they still maintain some contact with the outside world. This isn't the kind of thing that could happen under normal circumstances. The Iron State gaining a foothold within Cyril was already bad news.

The fact that it was so close to the Sanctum while they were still dealing with the fallout of their previous schemes was truly concerning.

"They pulled the wool over us once again," Orion finally admitted. It pained him to say that he had a role to play in this matter for once, as he'd been convinced that this had to be some sort of failsafe in case their operations within Silverpeak went bust. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

"We couldn't have ignored this matter anyway," Asteria said, shaking her head.

"If we had, we would have been stuck with a frenzy of monsters within the mountains, and soon after, that would have spread to the rest of the territory. No, it's a good thing we caught it early, but that still doesn't mean we're safe." One of the translucent images flickered, taking the shape of Elder Candra.

Orion hadn't seen much of the old woman since they returned to the Sanctum, but considering how crucial her input had been for the War on the Belt, he wasn't surprised she was taking part in what increasingly looked like a war council.

"We must assume the Sentinels have already fallen, or are currently being routed," Candra said, apparently having listened to their chat so far.

"The Iron State wouldn't spring this trap unless their vanguard was already entrenched beneath the canopy."

"In that case, we should move quickly," he replied, walking over to the map.

"If we strike now, flying in with all the people we can gather so quickly, we'd likely catch them unprepared. Even if they manage to completely overwhelm the druids and there are no more pockets of resistance, which isn't certain, as far as I understand, they would need time to fully control the territory. The worst thing we can do at this point is give them time to settle." Asteria took his hand.

For a brief moment, the cold Veil Priestess faded completely, and only the fiercely protective mother looked back at him.

"The Sanctum is going to war, Orion," she said softly.

"We have a strike team ready to deploy. Elder Varali and I will lead the first attack force to re-establish the borders, and more sisters will join us as we push into the forest." Pressing his lips together, Orion tried to reason with her.

"I understand why you wouldn't want us to lead the vanguard, but my team has proven itself against the Iron State again and again, haven't we?" I need to learn more about them. So far, the only real piece of interest I found was the console that controls the canisters, and I can't even take it apart. If we join this operation, I'd definitely be able to get my hands on much more. It annoyed him to admit it, but the combination of technology and magic used by the Iron State surpassed his own efforts.

Not that they had more scientific knowledge, no. He could tell from how easy it was to manipulate the console that there was no fear of that, but being able to blend the two forces so smoothly was still very valuable, especially since he was starting to hit a wall with his efforts to duplicate higher-powered effects. Asteria, however, didn't seem particularly convinced.

"You are exceptionally talented and have proven yourself again and again, but you have never fought in a theater of war against an organized army wielding the weapons the Iron State has. This will not be like the Belt, where we faced off against a conveniently monstrous enemy who behaved irrationally. If you come into the Ironwoods right now, you will likely die." Orion felt a surge of frustration flare in his chest.

He opened his mouth to argue, to point out that he had single-handedly been the reason they survived the Iron State's underground factory, but the words died in his throat. More figures were flickering into definition as Magistrae and Veil Priestesses connected to the divination artifacts. As much as he wanted to argue, he couldn't undermine Asteria's authority here. Not in front of the Sanctum's military command.

If he wanted to prove he was a leader worth anything, he had to demonstrate he could follow orders even when he disagreed. Swallowing his pride, Orion clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth ached.

"What are our orders, Veil Priestess?" Asteria's eyes softened just a little, but luckily, she didn't hug him. He didn't think he could have handled that.

"Because such a large force is moving westward, the cleanup effort will be severely understaffed," Asteria explained, turning back to the map.

"The highest peaks have been addressed, but there are still dozens of active canisters buried in the lower, western slopes of the range." She tapped the map, pointing at a cluster of red dots near the mountain edge, directly overlooking the border with the dwarven mountains and the beginning of the Ironwood Forest.

"I am officially assigning your squad to Sector West-Four. You will hunt down the remaining Tier Two and Tier Three corrupted beasts. You will secure the canisters, and you will not, under any circumstances, descend below the tree line into the forest. Is that understood?" At any other time, that would have been an honorable mission to receive. Being trusted to handle possible tier three monsters, even if under Pauline's supervision, was quite a feather in his cap.

Yet, given how much the whole operation had been downgraded, he couldn't help but feel it was just something to keep him satisfied while the adults dealt with the real danger. Still, he could only agree.

"I understand."

"Good," Asteria said. She reached out, briefly resting a hand on his shoulder. It was a fleeting, grounding touch.

"Be careful, Orion." The sky over the Observatory darkened, but for once, it was not with storm clouds, rather with witches. Over the past day, hundreds of them had flown in formations on their brooms, testing their coordination within groups, and it seemed like now would be the last of it. Leading the squadrons were Magistrae in heavily warded battle robes, barking orders or directing collaborative magics that far exceeded anything Orion had seen from anyone below tier four.

"I've never seen so many of them in one place except during holy ceremonies," Luna whispered, shielding her eyes from the glare of the magical contrails. Considering that some witches never left their workspaces, that wasn't so surprising. They watched for ten minutes as wave after wave of the Sanctum's finest flew overhead, streaking northwest toward the silent, dark expanse of the Ironwoods.

It was a stunning display of power, and Orion suspected the resources used for this operation would far exceed those employed in the War on the Belt. Once the last squadron was gone, there were no more excuses to keep them there, so Orion grunted, "We have been assigned the entire fourth western sector. Let's get a move on." Knowing that Pauline was undoubtedly following them in the shadows, the squad took to the air quietly.

Compared to yesterday, when the mood had been almost jubilant, the joy of the rank-up had now been drained, replaced by heavy tension. I suspect that will stay the same until we get back into the groove of things. They flew for hours, navigating the dangerous peaks that stretched along the western side of the Silvermount range without ever climbing too high for fear of drawing a powerful monster's attention.

Those near the canisters had been taken care of, but that didn't mean the range wasn't filled with many more beasts that could easily wipe them out. Luckily, creatures like that either knew better than to test the Sanctum or simply weren't interested in weaklings like them. The closer they got, the more the ambient mana felt tainted, making the air heavy and uninviting. Eventually, the rocky path leveled out onto a wide plateau.

Orion flew down to the edge of the cliff, his boots crunching loudly in the pristine snow, and looked down. The world appeared to fall away before them. The Silvermount range suddenly stopped, dropping thousands of feet into a vast, sprawling ocean of silvery green.

"The Ironwood forest," he murmured, before turning away. Not today.