The Royal Chapel at midnight,
I stood on the roof of the Royal Chapel, the wind whipping my cloak. In my pocket, I carried a small, lead-lined flask—Thomas's [Mana-Inversion Agent]. It was heavy, cold, and hummed with a terrifying anti-magic potential.
My objective was fifty feet below me: the Undercroft beneath the altar, where Cassian had drawn his ritual circle.
I activated [Stealth (S-Rank)]. My presence vanished from the world. I became nothing more than a whisper in the wind.
I dropped from the roof to the balcony, bypassing the locked doors with a simple pick lock skill of mine.
The interior of the chapel was silent, but it wasn't empty.
The main nave was patrolled not by human guards, but by [Void Sentinels]—floating, eye-shaped constructs made of shadow magic. They swept the room with cones of violet light.
Cassian's work, I realized. If that light touches me, the alarm triggers instantly.
I timed their rotation.
Left. Right. Center.
I moved.
