With the Sunstone Aether Bank disabled, Kaelen and Elara made the treacherous, high-speed dash toward the Veridian Square. The city was in chaos. Minor Aetheric devices—from street lamps to market displays—were flickering and failing due to the crippled power grid.
Kaelen used his specialized Transfiguration skills to aid their movement, casting subtle Aetheric Dampening Runes on their clothing that rendered their movement undetectable by the panicked, low-level patrols. They were ghosts moving through the disruption they had caused.
They arrived at the Veridian Square. It was eerily empty. The public proclamation site, where Lord Eamon had been disgraced, was now silent, the ceremonial balcony draped in the black and silver banners of King Valerius's new regime.
Kaelen moved straight to the central fountain—the massive, Aether-sensitive structure that served as the capital's largest public display surface.
"This is the amplifier," Kaelen stated, his eyes fixed on the fountain's crystalline structure. "The Mass-Scryer Rune is designed to use a centralized Aether sensor to project its content onto every reflective and receptive magical surface in the city—mirrors, shop windows, banners, even armor."
He placed the Codex of Echoes on the fountain's edge. He began the ritual, the final and most visible act of defiance. The Mass-Scryer Rune was not a spell of destruction, but of truth.
"I need to channel the entire remaining power of the Codex into this rune," Kaelen explained, his voice low and intense. "The information must be broadcast simultaneously across the entire capital, overwhelming Valerius's ability to censor it. The content is set: the King's death, the Executor's fate, and the Bank collapse."
As Kaelen began the channeling, his Staff acting as the central conductor, Elara resumed her post. She used the few remaining minutes to observe the surrounding clock towers and palace entrances.
"Movement," Elara reported, her voice sharp. "Not patrols. It's Valerius's personal guard—the Crimson Cloaks. Ten of them, all Purple Rank, led by Valerius himself. They are moving fast. They know you are here. They followed the path of the last stable Aether signature, which is us, right now."
Kaelen didn't look up, the ritual now consuming his attention. "They are too late. The ritual is at 70%. We have less than a minute. Elara, if they break my concentration, the rune will consume us both."
Elara drew her knife—the one she had retrieved from the lodge—her only defense. She had no magic, but she had the crucial knowledge of the Crimson Cloaks' weaknesses from the novel's military appendix.
The sound of armored boots echoed through the square. King Valerius, clad in dark, gilded armor, burst into the square, his face a mask of incandescent fury, his regal scepter raised like a weapon.
"Kaelen Varr!" Valerius roared, his voice amplified by a hidden spell. "The traitor returns! You destroy my Bank, you kill my machine, but you cannot escape my wrath!"