The immediate crisis of the Shadow Dragon was over, but the air in the Academy remained thick with a poisonous tension. The surface world bathed in the golden light of the artificial sun, students walking to class with books under their arms, completely oblivious to the fact that the island they stood upon had almost been consumed by the void just hours ago.

Alvian stood in the shadows of a service entrance on the periphery of the main campus, watching the students pass by. His [Vestments of the Void Monarch] were hidden beneath a simple illusion spell Seraphina had cast, making him look like just another weary upperclassman.

"They have no idea," Valeria murmured, leaning against the brick wall beside him. Her silver armor was dented and scorched from the battle with Umbra, a stark contrast to the pristine uniforms of the passing students. "We saved them, and they're worrying about midterms."

"Ignorance is a buffer," Alvian replied, his voice flat. "If they knew a Calamity just died beneath their feet, panic would do more damage than the Syndicate ever could."

He turned to the group. It was a battered council of war: Valeria, the exhausted Vanguard ace; Seraphina, the Shadow Dancer nursing a bruised rib; Arin, the traumatized but useful flashlight; and Professor George, who looked ready to collapse.

"The Shadow Dragon was a stall tactic," Alvian stated, pulling up a holographic map of the island's substructure. "It was meant to eat the Core or crash the island. Since we killed it, the Syndicate will move to their contingency plan."

"Contingency?" Arin squeaked. "There's something worse than a dragon?"

"There is always something worse," Alvian said. He pointed to a sprawling, unmapped section of the Undercroft, located laterally from the Deep Core. "Here. The Black Market. The 'Undercroft City'. It's a lawless zone sanctioned by corrupt faculty to keep the illicit trade of mana crystals and forbidden artifacts underground. It's the Syndicate's economic heart."

Seraphina nodded, her mechanical eye whirring as she synced her data with his map. "It's a fortress of vice. Mercenaries, rogue mages, black market auctioneers. The Syndicate uses it to launder money and move troops without alerting the Council. If they're planning a final strike, the order will come from there."

"We need to cut the head off the snake," Alvian said. "Again."

"We can't take an army down there," Valeria warned. "The Undercroft City is protected by a 'Neutrality Pact'. If the Vanguard marches in, the mercenaries will unite against us. It would be a bloodbath."

"Which is why we aren't sending an army," Alvian said. He equipped his [Voidpiercer] dagger, the blade drinking the surrounding light. "We're sending a customer."

He looked at Seraphina. "You know the layout. You and I will infiltrate. Valeria, take Arin and George to the surface. Mobilize the Vanguard, but keep them on standby. When I give the signal, I want you to seal every exit leading from the Undercroft to the campus. No one gets out."

"You're going into the viper's nest with just a dagger?" Valeria asked, though the doubt in her voice was replaced by resignation. She knew better than to question him now.

"I have infinite mana and a bad attitude," Alvian said. "I'll be fine."

The descent into the Undercroft City was a journey from order into chaos. They bypassed the official elevators, which were monitored, and used an old ventilation shaft that Seraphina's Silent Watchers had mapped years ago.

As they dropped down the rusted ladders, the air changed. The sterile ozone smell of the Academy was replaced by the heavy, cloying scents of spice, sweat, cheap ale, and unprocessed mana.

They emerged onto a catwalk high above the city.

It was a sprawling shantytown built into a massive natural cavern. Neon mana-lights flickered in purple and green, illuminating stalls selling monster parts, weapons, and slaves. Buildings were carved directly into the stalactites, connected by swaying rope bridges.

The noise was deafening—a roar of haggling, fighting, and machinery.

"Welcome to the armpit of the magical world," Seraphina whispered, pulling her hood low. "Keep your head down. Everyone here is Level 30 or higher. Most are wanted criminals."

Alvian scanned the crowd below.

[Target: Rogue Mage - Level 32]

[Target: Beast Mercenary - Level 35]

[Target: Syndicate Enforcer - Level 38]

"High concentrations of Syndicate personnel," Alvian noted. "They aren't hiding anymore. They're mobilizing."

He saw crates being loaded onto hover-skiffs. Heavy weapon crates.

"They're preparing for a siege," Alvian realized. "They intend to take the surface."

"We need to find the Commander," Seraphina said. "The one issuing the orders. My intel says the local Syndicate boss operates out of the 'Blood Pit'. It's a gladiatorial arena in the center of the district."

"An arena," Alvian mused. A cold smile touched his lips. "How convenient."

"Alvian, no," Seraphina warned, grabbing his arm. "We are here for recon. If you start a fight, three thousand criminals will jump us."

"Recon is inefficient," Alvian said, shaking off her hand. "I need a meeting with the boss. And in a place like this, you don't book an appointment. You demand it."

He activated [Shadow Weave +2].

"Stay in the shadows, Seraphina. Watch my back. I'm going to make a withdrawal."

He vanished from the catwalk.

Seraphina sighed, drawing her daggers. "He's going to kill everyone, isn't he?"

Alvian moved through the crowded streets like a phantom. He passed by stalls selling 'Cursed Potions' and 'Illegal Spell Tomes'. He ignored them all. His destination was the massive, circular structure in the center of the city, from which the roar of a bloodthirsty crowd echoed.

The Blood Pit.

He reached the entrance. Two massive ogres stood guard, wearing Syndicate collars.

"Entry fee is 500 gold," the ogre grunted, blocking the path with a club the size of a tree trunk.

Alvian dropped his stealth. He stood before the ogre, looking like a noble lost in a slum in his [Vestments of the Void Monarch].

.

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A/N: Creation is wild, exhausting, and sometimes my brain wants to run away. Power stones are my only bargaining chip to drag it back. If you liked this chapter, toss me one or a few, it helps more than you think.

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