The seven Academic Nobles walked back towards the Great Hall. The atmosphere had shifted. The hall was now set up formally. Rows of chairs facing a raised platform. Where the King and royal family would preside.
A heavy, expectant silence had replaced the earlier chatter. The air felt charged. Not with celebration. But with a strange tension of ceremonious anticipation.
The seven Academic Nobles found places together. A small island of pragmatic intellect in a sea of ceremonial finery and ancient tradition. The ceremony itself was a long, solemn affair.
Oaths were recited. Blessings were intoned by robed priests of the orthodox Ocean Church. Historical achievements of the dynasty recounted. Spark paid surface-level attention. His mind was running simulations.
Where would the summoning circle be? How would they conceal it? How long would the dragon take to appear? What would the initial chaos look like? He assessed the hall's architecture. The exits. Potential points of weakness.
Finally, the solemn rituals concluded. The King offered a brief, dignified speech. And then, the royal staff began the transformation. With practiced efficiency.
Sections of the floor were retracted. Revealing polished dance surfaces. Chairs were whisked away by attendants. Aided by subtle movement runes.
Orchestral musicians took their places on a raised platform. The air grew lighter. Filling with the promise of music and movement.
This was it. The signal. The Great Dance was the trigger.
Spark exchanged a look with Professor Ashenowl. The Professor caught his eye. A shared understanding passed between them. Neither had any interest in social dancing. Their minds were still on the possibilities of waste energy and runic filters.
"Well..." Professor Ashenowl said. Rising on his feet. "The dance floor calls. But, I believe the library holds more compelling opportunities for discovery this evening."
Mayor Ginheron nodded eagerly. "Agreed. A good book or a stimulating debate beats a jig any day."
"Indeed." Duke Albatross chimed in. "The acoustics for discussion are much better in the library."
Viscount Windlark just made a soft, clicking sound that might have been assent.
One by one, the seven of them quietly excused themselves from their section. Melting away from the edges of the transforming hall. While the music was just beginning to swell.
No one paid them much mind. The focus was on the dance floor. On finding partners. On social positioning.
The seven nobles made their way swiftly but calmly. Back towards the library doors. They reached the entrance and stepped inside. The solid oak doors swinging closed behind them.
But then, a new sound erupted. From the direction of the newly formed Grand Ballroom. It started an isolated shriek. Sharp and piercing. Instantly cutting through the nascent music.
Then came screams and cries. A violent chorus of fear and panic. And finally... Deeper. Earth-shaking. A sound that vibrated through the very stones of the palace... A demonic roar. Ancient. And utterly terrifying.
Spark grimaced. The Land Dragon had been summoned. The Holy Sun Cult's scheme had succeeded. The planned purge had begun.
The demonic roar ripped through the palace stone. Silencing music and conversation alike. It was heavy and resonated with monstrous power.
"By the Great Kraken's Tentacles!" Mayor Ginheron swore. "My wife! She's in there!"
Professor Onostrich swore under his breath. "My daughter... I must go back."
The other three academic nobles, Duke Albatross, Viscount Windlark, and Prince Leonel, shared grim, panicked glances. Their families were likely caught in the unfolding horror.
"We have to see!" Viscount Windlark insisted. Already turning towards the library doors.
"Wait! It might be dangerous." Spark said. His steady voice cut through their rising panic. His dark-grey eyes narrowed. He knew it was dangerous. A disaster.
Professor Ashenowl, ever stoic, adjusted his spectacles. "Spark has a point. Rushing in blindly could be foolish."
"Foolish?!" Viscount Windlark retorted. His face was seriously worried. "Our families are in there!"
"Exactly!" Duke Albatross said. His voice was a gravelly rumble. "We can't just hide." He didn't wait for further debate. He strode purposefully towards the doors. His heavy boots echoing the urgency.
The other four nobles followed without hesitation. Their academic detachment shattered by primal fear for loved ones. Spark watched them go. He had no family here. No one to mourn inside.
His logical mind screamed 'stay away, this is the king's mess'. But curiosity tugged at him. And his keen sense of opportunity in chaos.
Plus, it might draw unwanted attention if he simply vanished. It would be better to appear to join their effort. Then peel off at the right moment.
"Professor?" Spark inclined his head towards the door.
Ashenowl sighed and gave a short, curt nod. "Indeed. Observation is a form of knowledge gathering, even if it's observing disaster." He seemed less driven by worry. And more by a detached, dark curiosity.
The two men followed the five frantic nobles. Moving swiftly back through the empty corridors that led to the ballroom's main entrance. The sounds of pandemonium grew louder with every step.
Shrieks. Roars. The terrible sound of stone and wood splintering. Smoke began to drift under the edges of the great doors.
They reached the wide lobby just outside the ballroom. The main doors to the ballroom itself, the only way in, were massive. Carved oak affairs easily six meters high.
But they were shut tight. And around their frames, faint, pulsating runes glowed with a malevolent energy. A powerful magical seal.
Guarding the sealed doors were two figures in royal staff outfits. But they were certainly didn't look like the staff.
As the nobles came close, they quickly transformed. One was now encased in a bulky, dark metal suit of armor. Vaguely humanoid but clearly enhanced. A heavy, smoking multi-barrel gun held ready.
The other stood tall. His form was shimmering and expanding into a hulking, fur-covered monstrosity with razor claws and terrifying strength. A Werebear. A Framepath Warrior.
Both radiated the aura of Tier-4. Its power rolled off them like heat from a furnace.
"Cultists!" Duke Albatross roared the instant he saw them. Immediately recognizing them. His eyes blazed with fury.
He didn't hesitate. His massive frame rippled and expanded. Dark fur erupted across his skin. Wings of shadow unfurled from his back. As his form shifted into a large, powerful winged werepanther. Sleek and deadly.
With a guttural snarl, he launched himself at the werebear cultist.
Professor Ashenowl was just as fast. But with a different response. He didn't transform physically. Instead, complex, dark void mist flared into existence around his hands.
From them a pair of wicked-looking handguns, solidified. He raised them. Aiming at the armored Technomind. Two sharp cracks echoed as the guns fired. Launching concentrated bullets of intense, crackling lightning bolts.
Viscount Windlark let out a surprisingly high-pitched yelp of rage. His body contorted violently. Shrinking slightly before expanding outwards. Fur sprouted. Coarse and bristly.
His snout elongated. Revealing wickedly sharp teeth. And powerful claws extended from his limbs. He transformed into a werebadger. Not as intimidating as werebear or werepanther. But radiating ferocious tenacity.
He charged. Surprisingly fast. Aiming for the werebear's legs.
Mayor Ginheron, Professor Onostrich, and Prince Leonel stood frozen for a second. They were clearly not experienced in combat.
Spark moved past them. He didn't worry about the battle. He could sense Viscount Windlark was a Tier-4 individual. Professor Ashenowl and Duke Albatross were even stronger, at least Tier-5.
He didn't care about the battle. He needed to get closer to the door. To see the runes.
The Technomind cultist reacted instantly to Ashenowl's attack. The lightning bolts struck its mechanical armor. Making sparks fly. But the suit seemed heavily shielded.
The cultist's multi-gun whirred to life. Spitting a stream of explosive rounds towards Ashenowl. The Professor calmly continued to aim and shoot without any worry.
Force shield flashed in front of him. Blocking and deflecting the gun blasts. He was completely unharmed in the clash.
The werebear cultist met Duke Albatross's charge head-on. Fur against fur, claw against claw. The sounds of their battle were savage. Roars. Snarls Tearing flesh.
Viscount Windlark, the werebadger, burrowed under the werebear's guard. Clawing at its thick legs, disrupting its balance.
Spark knelt by the massive door. Fingers tracing the glowing runes. Master-level sealing runes. Anchored deep in the palace's magical matrix. Standard technique for controlling powerful magical lock.
"Professor! Duke! The seal is anchored!" Spark called out. Not looking away from the runes. "Standard palace matrix lock. Needs a high-level rune key or external matrix manipulation."
Duke Albatross, locked in a brutal grapple with the werebear, roared. "Break it, Nighthawk! Or tell us how!"
Professor Ashenowl sent powerful lightning blasts that cracked his opponent's armor. He shouted back, "I can provide the matrix key! But it needs simultaneous input and a strong anchor point!"
Spark quickly analyzed the pattern. His mind accessing the vast archive of rune knowledge acquired through his transmigration. This wasn't new theory, just complex application.
"Needs power! Duke, hit the anchoring nodes! There are three, marked by the brighter pulses. Professor, prime your key on my signal!"
Albatross roared assent. His werepanther form suddenly burst in power. He disengaged from the struggling werebear with a burst of speed. Tearing chunks of flesh from its shoulders with his claws.
He ignored the werebear's pained roars. And sprang towards the door. His powerful claws were ripping into the stone at points Spark indicated.
The werebear tried to chase. But Viscount Windlark, tenacious as a snapping turtle, jumped into its back an bit its neck with savage brutality.
Meanwhile, Professor Ashenowl poured more power into his runic handguns. The lightning bolts accurately pierced the Engineer's helmet with devastating force.
"Now, Professor!" Spark shouted after the Duke destroyed the last node.
He placed both massive hands flat against the central cluster of runes. Power surged from him. His soul, mind, and physique resonated as he used them together. The raw, balanced energy of a Jackmaster flowed into the runic matrix.
This felt different from just using runes. This felt like becoming the runes. Easily manipulating the very threads of magical law.
Professor Ashenowl fired a blindingly bright bolt of lightning from his two handguns simultaneously into two sides of the door. Next to where Spark's hands were.
There was a high-pitched whine as the sealing runes flickered violently. Inside the ballroom, the earth-shaking roar sounded again.
The runes pulsed one last time, then died. The glowing energy dissipating. The powerful seal was broken.
Spark yanked his hands back. Just as the great doors opened... Hell erupted.