Guess it's time to test my new strength after breaking through!"

Damien cracked his knuckles, the golden aura flaring around his fists. He turned toward the door, ready to march out.

"Hold your horses, boy," Brokk grunted, slamming his wrench onto the metal table. "You think you can just waltz into the Deep Iron Prison through the front door? That isn't bravery; that's suicide."

Brokk grabbed the lever on the wall and pulled it down harder.

CLANK-WHIRRR.

The map of the city that hung from the ceiling zoomed in, focusing on the dark, jagged sector buried deep beneath the earth. It wasn't just a dungeon; it was a labyrinth built inside the active veins of the volcano.

"Look here," Brokk pointed a grease-stained finger at the main entrance.

"The Main Gate. It's guarded by two battalions of the Iron Legion and a 5th-Order Mana Barrier. If you attack here, the alarm goes off, and the Regent vents the cells with poison gas. My friends die before you even swing your sword."

Damien frowned, his aura settling down. "So a frontal assault is out. What about the sewers?"

"Melted," Hephaestus spoke up, his voice grim. "The drainage system down there flows with molten slag, not water."

"Then how do we get in?" Leona asked, crossing her massive arms.

Brokk tapped a thin, jagged line on the map that looked like a crack in the foundation.

"The Geothermal Intake Shaft," Brokk said. "It's an old ventilation system from the First Era. It bypasses the main gate and drops you right into the Magma Sector."

"Why isn't it guarded?" Lyra asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Because it's hell," Brokk said bluntly. "The air temperature down there is 400 degrees. The tunnels are infested with Magma Slimes. And the pressure is high enough to crush a normal dwarf."

He looked at Damien.

"Thrain didn't bother guarding it because he thinks nothing can survive the descent."

"Perfect," Damien smirked. "I love backdoors that people think are impossible."

He looked at the map, analyzing the layout. The shaft led to a central junction at the very bottom.

"Once we hit the bottom," Damien pointed to the junction, "we split up."

"Team A," he pointed to the Left path, leading to the holding cells. "Brokk, Leona, Lyra, Isabelle. Your job is to make noise. Hit the Cell Block. Free the prisoners. Start a riot."

"Team B," he pointed to the Right path, a dark tunnel marked 'Condemned Sector.' "Hephaestus and I. We go into the Old Sector."

"Wait," Hephaestus leaned in, squinting at the map. His eyes widened as he recognized a specific rune etched over the Right Sector.

"That symbol... the Twin Hammers..." Hephaestus whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "Grandmaster, is this the Royal Vault?"

"Aye," Brokk nodded gravely. "The Old King's private workshop."

Hephaestus looked at Damien, a sudden intensity in his eyes.

"Damien, we have to go there. My father... before he fell ill, he told me he hid something down there. A weapon he couldn't finish. He called it 'Pantheon.'"

"Pantheon?" Damien raised an eyebrow.

"The Sword of All Elements," Brokk grunted, crossing his arms. "Durin wanted to forge a blade that could channel every type of mana simultaneously. But it was unstable. It sucked energy like a black hole. He hid it away because he was afraid it would blow up the city."

"A sword that eats energy?" Damien's eyes lit up with the greedy light of a collector. That sounded perfect for his Dual-Core instability. "Is it still there?"

"It should be," Hephaestus nodded. "If Thrain hasn't found the key. If we can get that sword... it might be the only thing strong enough to pierce the Warden's armor."

"Then it's decided," Damien declared. "We retrieve the sword, and we stop the transport train carrying the civilians."

"Good," Brokk grunted. He walked over to a heavy iron chest and kicked it open.

"Now that you know the plan, put these on. You can't fight if you're cooked."

He tossed a handful of strange, metallic disks onto the workbench. They looked like oversized platinum coins, etched with glowing blue runes that hummed with a faint, cooling mist.

"Thermal Regulators," Brokk explained. "These generate a localized frost-shield around your skin. It won't stop a fireball, but it will keep your blood from boiling in the vents."

Damien caught one, feeling the instant drop in temperature against his palm. He attached it to his belt.

Click.

A refreshing, invisible chill wrapped around his body.

"And you'll need these," Brokk walked to the weapon rack.

He tossed a pair of bulky, brass knuckles to Leona. They were fitted with exhaust pipes.

"Steam-Impact Gauntlets. Since you rely on brute force, these use the ambient heat of the vents to pressurize your punches. Hit something hard enough, and it releases a steam explosion."

Leona's eyes lit up. She slid them on. Clank. "I like them."

Next, Brokk handed Lyra a quiver of black arrows.

"Flash-Bang Arrows. They don't cut; they scream. Use them to blind the sensors or deafen the guards in the echoey tunnels."

Finally, Brokk turned to Hephaestus. He handed the Prince a heavy, rusted iron keycard.

"This is the Master Override for the Old Sector," Brokk said softly. "Your father gave it to me for safekeeping. It should open the Vault."

Hephaestus took it, his hand clutching it tight. "I won't fail him."

"Alright," Damien said, pulling his hood up. "Is everyone ready?"

"Ready!"

Brokk pulled a second lever.

HISS—CLANK.

A section of the workshop floor hissed and slid open, revealing a dark, vertical shaft leading straight down into the earth.

A blast of sulfurous hot air rushed up, making the clocks on the wall rattle. The red glow of magma was visible miles down.

"Into the furnace," Damien whispered.

He jumped.

...................

[The Descent - 300 Meters Down]

They rappelled down the shaft using mana-reinforced ropes. The heat rose with every meter. The walls turned from cold stone to hot, glowing red rock.

SPLAT.

A glob of molten lava dripped from a pipe, landing on Damien's shoulder. The Thermal Regulator flared blue, hissing as it neutralized the heat.

"Movement," Lyra whispered from above. "Three o'clock. Inside the vent."

Damien looked. A massive, red gelatinous blob was oozing out of a side pipe. It radiated heat so intense the air shimmered around it.

[Magma Slime - Tier 3]

It didn't have eyes, but it sensed them. It lunged, shooting a stream of liquid fire at Leona.

"Ugh!" Leona tried to dodge, swinging on her rope, but the heat wave singed her fur. "It's too hot to fight! My aura is being suppressed!"

"Isabelle!" Damien shouted. "You're up! Remember what Alfred taught you!"

Isabelle was hanging below him. Unlike the others, she wasn't sweating. Her eyes were glowing a vibrant ruby red. To her, the oppressive heat didn't feel like hell. It felt like a buffet.

"Yes, Young Master!"

Isabelle let go of her rope.

She dropped through the air, falling straight toward the Magma Slime. She opened her mouth and inhaled.

"Gluttony Art: Heat Eater."

WHOOSH.

The stream of fire that the slime shot at her didn't burn her. It was sucked into her mouth like noodles.

She landed on the slime's back. Her hands ignited with blue fire—hotter than the magma.

"Delicious," Isabelle laughed, a manic sound. "More!"

She punched the slime. The blue fire consumed the red magma body instantly. The slime shrieked—a sound like boiling water—and evaporated into steam.

"Show off," Leona grumbled, though she looked relieved.

Ten minutes later, their boots hit the metal grating at the bottom of the shaft.

They were in a massive junction room. To the Left, a heavy blast door led to the Cell Block. To the Right, a dark, narrow tunnel marked with "Authorized Personnel Only" led to the Old Sector.

"This is it," Brokk said, checking his mana rifle. "The split."

"Good luck," Damien nodded to the Grandmaster. "Give them hell."

"I intend to," Brokk grinned.

The teams separated. The Jailbreak had begun.

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