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Chapter 17: The hunting ground

  In the early morning, the delicate sound of muffled panic dragged Valerian from sleep.

  "Val... Val! Wake up!" Antheros's voice was a harsh, tight whisper, completely devoid of its usual warmth.

  Valerian's eyes snapped open. The familiar weight of her hand on his shoulder felt frantic. He saw her face, usually serene, now contorted, etched with a raw, desperate worry that instantly killed his drowsy state. He gently placed his hand over hers. "Antheros, what happened? Why are you so worried?"

  "Valerian! Our son is not at home. I searched the entire city—he’s not here," she choked out, hot, stinging tears already tracking paths through her face. "Valerian, I am afraid... Please, please look for him," she pleaded, her voice rising to a squeak of pure distress.

  Valerian felt a momentary, weary relief. He knew this drill; his wife overreacted where their son was concerned. He patted her head gently, feeling the shuddering sobs rack her frame. He thought of the past years—of Azuma, the three-year-old genius, who had been experimenting with formations since age three, absorbing centuries of knowledge in a blink. He was brilliant, but also arrogant and dangerously reckless.

  "I will find him," he promised, his voice calm, even as he was already rising and swiftly pulling on his tunic and armor bindings. He grabbed the communication crystal. "Send the City Guard out, immediately. Initiate a Level Two search. Check every residence, every workshop, every corner of the inner and outer cave systems again."

  As he spoke the final command into the crystal, Valerian felt a wave of grogginess wash over him, his mind still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Then, a memory surfaced—a single, sharp flash from his warning ring that had happened during the night. It had been so quick, appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye, that he had almost dismissed it as a dream.

  He lifted his hand, checking the amulet ring tied to the city's defenses. His breath hitched. The logs in the mana residue were clear: the core city-teleportation formation had been activated.

  "Is it... Azuma?" he muttered to himself. He immediately shook his head, his brow furrowed in confusion. "No, there is no way. Why would he even go there? It makes no sense."

  He stood up, his movements slightly clumsy and impatient. He didn't feel right; a strange restlessness was building in his chest. He realized he couldn't handle this alone. For a split second, Anya’s face appeared in his mind, but he quickly pushed the thought away, still in deep denial. He found himself wishing it was a demon infiltration—something he could fight, something logical—rather than acknowledging that his own son might have ventured out into the unknown.

  "Why... why would he?" he whispered again. Without another thought, he hurried toward his home office, his heart hammering against his ribs. He needed to see if Azuma had taken anything. He scanned the room, his eyes darting from shelf to shelf, until they landed on a specific corner.

  The bag of meat. The offering meant for the demons. It was gone.

  A cold knot formed in his stomach, heavy and hard. The dread he had been trying to ignore finally settled in. Azuma was out.

  "Antheros," he called out, his voice a low command, thick with the weight of his discovery. "Where did you keep the bag of meat we were supposed to give to the demons?"

  She entered the room, her eyes swollen and confused. "I kept it here, Val... I... I don't know." The bag was gone.

  That kid. Dread replaced shock, heavy and suffocating. He went to meet the demons. But why take the offering bag himself? Valerian's mind raced. He's only three. The demons would never receive him as an ally, even with the gift. How would they recognize him?

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  Then the chilling answer struck him, a cold spike of certainty: Azuma would never move without a plan. He had to have an ally—someone the demons recognized, someone he could control.

  Valerian swore under his breath and rushed out, Antheros scrambling behind him. He already knew where they were going and who else was missing.

  Vikram met them halfway, his face tense. "My lord, is this about the missing prince? Has he gone into hiding again?"

  "Vikram, have you seen Anya anywhere?" Valerian’s voice was clipped.

  Vikram pondered the strange question for a moment. "No, my lord."

  Valerian tightened his fist, the muscles in his forearm jumping. "Search for her too. Antheros, come with me."

  They reached the Teleportation Building. Antheros looked around, reassured. "There is no way Azuma left the city, Val. Not a single word was triggered. You would have gotten a notice."

  But Valerian saw it. As a master, he could detect the faint, ghostly residue of tampering. He looked at the pedestal. The activation stone, which should have been cool and dark, was radiating a furious, almost pulsating red.

  Mike and the other officials arrived. Mike immediately noticed the aura. "Lord, is the teleportation...?"

  "Yes," Valerian said, his voice flat with forced control. "Somehow, that unruly kid managed to bypass the formation traps and activate the teleportation. And I think Anya is with him."

  Antheros's face paled to the colour of ash, and her shaky denial was pitiful. "What? How could he do that, Val? That's not possible! He's only three years old!"

  Valerian let out a short, self-deprecating laugh, a sound devoid of humor. "That's what I thought at first. But Antheros, our child—Fallen Star or not—is anything but ordinary. You know he has cleared all the fundamentals in every discipline. What I struggled to learn for more than a decade, he mastered in two years. And now he has even begun experimenting and creating his own formations, not to mention that he is nagging me to teach him runes, too."

  The officials around him gasped, Sou yelling, "He did what?"

  The news from the guards confirmed his fear: "We can't seem to find either Anya or the young prince."

  It was then the guards' news and Valerian's earlier suspicion clicked into place for Antheros with terrible clarity. The missing bag, Anya gone, the teleportation bypass... Her mind screamed the terrifying connection. He took the offering. He used Anya's loyalty, her trust, her very name as a shield to get past the border. The demons will see the bag and Anya, and assume safety. But my baby... my genius, arrogant baby... is in the cursed lands! The full, terrifying scope of Azuma’s plan—his audacity and his selfishness—hit her. She didn't just break; she shattered. "No! No!" she screamed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "He went to meet the demons! Since they know only me or Anya, he convinced Anya to tag along! Val! We have to go now! Our baby is in danger!" She collapsed, weeping hysterically, held by Lisa.

  Lisa looked at Valerian, her eyes burning with urgency. "My lord, what are you waiting for?"

  Valerian swallowed, gritting his teeth against the technical hurdle. "The teleportation has a two-day cooldown period. If we need to forcefully activate it, then..." He looked at the A-grade energy stone he carried, the massive power source he had reserved. "We need much more energy. The energy which would keep us fed for almost two months."

  Mike stepped forward, his hand firm on Valerian's shoulder. "Why are you waiting? Use the A-grade stones. We can always earn more. Don't think about this." Valerian looked at his loyal followers—in their eyes, the sacrifice was not a question, only the natural duty of protection. He felt a wave of profound gratitude, pushing aside his professional crisis.

  "Ready the formation! Now!" Valerian roared, the command clearing his head.

  Six hours of frantic work later, the teleportation circle glowed a brilliant, unstable green. "We are ready," Valerian announced, his voice hoarse. "Gather everyone powerful. We will leave in five minutes."

  Valerian, Antheros, and their retinue stepped into the portal. The light faded, and they stepped into the hunting ground.

  What they saw froze the air in their lungs and sent shivers down their spines.

  Three massive, twenty-foot serpents lay slain on the blood-soaked earth. Several of their pristine white shine scales had been ripped away, leaving dull, jagged patches on their massive frames. Perched calmly on top of one of the creature's heads—now hollowed out where its eyes should have been—was a small boy, Azuma. He was calmly clutching a single bloody, still-wet eye in one hand and a dagger in the other. The other five eyes of the massive serpents were already missing, leaving only dark, gaping holes in their heads.

  Silence. Not a single person dared to move or breathe.

  Valerian’s professional training took over. Without hesitation, he slammed his hand onto the portal rune. "Move!" he commanded, instantly sending everyone back to the city. He knew all too well—fresh blood would draw more monsters. And they had already seen far, far too much for one day.

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