The Blind District was a graveyard of collapsed skyscrapers on the eastern edge of Iron-Tooth City. The smog here was so thick it had its own weather system, condensing into greasy black rain that slicked the cobblestones.
It was the perfect choke point.
Rylan lay flat on a rusting I-beam, thirty feet above the main road. The damp cold seeped into his bones, but his new Ice Resistance affinity kept him comfortable.
Beside him, Sylara was a statue of white stillness. She wore a black mask and hood, hiding her distinctive silver hair. Her eyes, however, burned with a terrifying intensity as she stared down at the road.
"They are late," Sylara whispered. The moisture in her breath turned to snowflakes before hitting the metal beam.
"The Jade Empire is never late," Rylan murmured, checking the Sound-Capture receiver in his ear. "They are cautious."
"Target in sight," Toran's voice crackled over the line. "Two hundred yards out. Heavy escort. Four mounted disciples, one armored carriage. And... Rylan, the horses are breathing lightning."
"Thunder-Hooves," Rylan identified. "Expensive beasts. That confirms the cargo."
They were hunting a Thunder-Source Geode. It was a strategic resource the Jade Empire was shipping to the front lines to power their siege golems against the Crimson Lotus. Rylan needed it for Mei's ballista.
"Remember the plan," Rylan told Sylara. "We are thieves, not executioners. We grab the box, and we vanish. No extended engagements."
Sylara looked at him. "If I see an opening to kill a Jade disciple, I will take it."
"Only if it doesn't slow us down," Rylan conceded.
The convoy emerged from the fog.
The carriage was reinforced with ironwood and glowing green runes. The four outriders wore the pristine armor of the Jade Vanguard Elite. They scanned the ruins constantly, their hands resting on sword hilts.
Rylan waited until the carriage was directly beneath the beam.
"Now."
Sylara moved her hand. She didn't cast a flashy spell. She simply clenched her fist.
The puddles of oily water on the road instantly flashed into spikes of black ice.
CRUNCH.
The lead horses stepped onto the ice. Their hooves found no purchase. The spikes shattered their shins. The beasts screamed—a sound like tearing metal—and collapsed, throwing their riders.
The convoy ground to a halt.
"Ambush!" a guard shouted, rolling to his feet and drawing a blade wreathed in green fire. "Form defensive ring!"
Rylan dropped.
He didn't land on the ground. He landed on the roof of the carriage.
THUD.
Using Structural Vision, he saw the weak points in the roof's defensive array. He drove his sword into the rune-cluster.
ZZZT.
The protective barrier shorted out. Rylan carved a circle in the wood and kicked it in. He dropped inside.
The interior was plush, lined with silk. Sitting there, holding a heavy lead box, was an old man with a long white beard. He didn't look like a warrior. He looked like a scholar.
But Rylan's Imperial Aura recoiled. This man was dangerous.
[Ding! Target Analysis.]
[Target: Elder Jian (Jade Empire Logistician).]
[Cultivation: Foundation Establishment (Late Stage).]
[Specialty: Wards and Traps.]
Elder Jian didn't look surprised. He looked disappointed.
"A rat in the roof," Jian sighed. "How predictable."
He placed his hand on the lead box.
"Explode."
The runes on the box flared red. It was rigged.
Rylan didn't think. He didn't try to disarm it. He kicked the box out of the old man's hands, launching it through the open carriage door.
"Sylara!" Rylan roared.
Outside, Sylara saw the box flying through the air. She saw the red runes glowing, seconds from detonation.
She extended her hand.
Flash Freeze.
A beam of absolute cold struck the box in mid-air. The chemical reaction inside the runes was frozen instantly. The explosion died before it could be born. The box clattered to the pavement, encased in a block of ice.
Inside the carriage, Elder Jian's eyes narrowed. "Ice arts? The Frost-Moon Sect?"
He raised a finger. A beam of concentrated green energy shot toward Rylan's heart.
Rylan deflected it with his sword, but the force knocked him backward, slamming him against the carriage wall. The wood splintered.
"You are strong for a rat," Jian noted, standing up. "But you are trapped."
"Am I?" Rylan grinned.
He pulled a pin on his belt.
Under the carriage, Mei had planted a magna-charge—a powerful magnet rune.
CLANG.
The metal armor of the four guards outside suddenly magnetized. They were yanked violently toward the carriage wheels, stuck fast to the iron rims.
"Toran! Smoke!"
From the ruins, Toran fired a volley of alchemical smoke canisters. The street was instantly swallowed by thick, grey fog.
Rylan didn't fight the Elder. He dived out the door.
He scooped up the frozen lead box.
"Go!" Rylan ordered.
Sylara was engaged with one of the unhorsed guards. She had frozen his sword to his scabbard and was preparing to drive an icicle through his eye.
"Sylara! Leave him!"
She hesitated. The killing intent rolling off her was suffocating. She wanted blood.
But the collar around her neck pulsed warmly—a warning from Rylan.
She snarled, kicked the guard in the chest, shattering his ribs, and sprinted after Rylan.
Elder Jian stepped out of the carriage. He waved his hand, and a gust of wind cleared the smoke in a ten-foot radius.
He saw two figures disappearing into the ruins.
He raised his hand to pursue, but stopped. He looked at the box they had taken.
"Fools," Jian whispered. "That Geode is unstable. Without the containment key..."
He smiled cruelly.
"It will kill them before they can sell it."
Rylan and Sylara didn't stop running until they reached a safe house in the Slag District—a basement beneath a bakery that paid protection money to Toran.
Rylan slammed the heavy lead box onto a table. He was panting. His shoulder burned.
"We got it," Rylan said.
Sylara stood by the door, vibrating with adrenaline. "I could have killed him. The guard. He was open."
"And the Elder would have killed you," Rylan snapped. "Elder Jian. Late Stage. If we stayed ten more seconds, he would have locked down the block."
Sylara paced. "Cowardice."
"Strategy," Rylan corrected. "We took their battery. Now their siege towers are useless."
He looked at the box. The ice was melting.
"Mei said this thing is dangerous," Rylan muttered. "Don't touch it directly."
He used his sword to pry the lid open.
Inside, resting on a velvet cushion, was a fist-sized crystal. It pulsed with violent, jagged purple light. The air in the room instantly tasted like ozone. Arcs of electricity jumped from the crystal to the metal rim of the box.
[Item: Thunder-Source Geode (Volatile)]
[Grade: Earth-High]
[Status: Critical Mass. Detonation imminent without stabilization.]
"It's overloading," Sylara said, backing away. "The Elder... he triggered the core destabilization. It's a bomb, Rylan."
Rylan stared at it. The pulsing was getting faster.
"Mei isn't here," Rylan said. "We can't stabilize it with runes."
"Then throw it away!" Sylara yelled. "Run!"
"No," Rylan said. "I need this."
He looked at Sylara.
"Freeze it."
"What?"
"Freeze the energy flow," Rylan ordered. "Like you did to the runes. Slow down the electrons. Put the lightning to sleep."
"I can't freeze lightning!" Sylara protested. "It's pure energy!"
"You are the Ice Phoenix!" Rylan roared, grabbing her shoulders. "You freeze concepts, not just water! Do it, or we die in a crater!"
Sylara stared at the blinding purple light. She gritted her teeth.
She stepped forward. She placed both hands over the crystal, hovering inches above it.
"Winter's End," she whispered.
She poured her soul into the technique. The room temperature plummeted to fifty degrees below zero. The walls cracked. The table groaned.
Rylan watched, shivering uncontrollably despite his resistance.
The purple arcs slowed. The frantic pulsing turned into a sluggish, rhythmic beat. The blinding light dimmed to a dull glow.
Sylara gasped and collapsed backward, her Qi exhausted.
The crystal sat there, encased in a shell of blue rime-ice, dormant.
Rylan let out a breath.
"You see?" Rylan said, looking down at her. "You are more than just a killer."
Sylara glared up at him from the floor, her eyelashes frosted white.
"I hate you," she whispered.
"Good," Rylan said, closing the box. "Hate keeps you warm."
He picked up the box.
"Let's go home. Mei has a ballista to build."
End of Chapter 52