Chapter 55: The Heart of the Pack
The deep, mournful wail of the retreat horns echoed across the valley, a sound of absolute defeat. Out in the distant treeline, the colossal mountain of obsidian scales—the True-Blood Dragon—had finally risen. It launched into the sky, its massive wings blotting out the morning sun.
But before it could unleash its breath upon the city, the heavy storm clouds on the far southern horizon parted. Dozens of miles out, cresting the distant mountain range, was a massive contingent of armored airships. The Royal armada had arrived.
A single figure dropped from the bow of the Royal flagship, radiating a blinding, sun-like aura of pure, concentrated magical energy. The clash was instantaneous. The sky lit up with intersecting flashes of brilliant dragon-fire and golden magical artillery. The Golden Vanguard pushed the massive True-Blood back with terrifying ease. Realizing it couldn't break the line, the True-Blood let out a furious roar, banked hard to the west, and sounded a concussive bellow. Below it, the remaining thousands of Dragon-kin turned and fled into the mist.
We regrouped at the Archangel in the center of the city. Elias and Vael arrived a moment later, their frames trailing smoke. We were battered, exhausted, and covered in soot. I looked at Aria, then at the distant horizon where the Royal Airships were beginning to crest the mountains.
"That's Royal power," Mistress Vael said, her voice unusually somber. "The Golden Vanguard. If they see us here with this ship..."
"They won't just ask questions, Nero," Master Elias added, leaning heavily on his staff. "The City Lord was already covetous. Now, with the city in ruins, he'll see the Archangel as his rightful property to 'rebuild' Oakhaven. And the Crown? They don't allow Level 30 Progenitors to walk around with city-leveling Soul-Frames without a leash."
I looked at the Liger, then up at the Arc-Raiser. We saved this city. But to them, we aren't heroes. We're an unregistered, highly dangerous arsenal.
"We're sitting ducks," Aria agreed, her silver matrix pulsing faintly. "If we're still parked in the middle of the street when they dock, we lose everything."
I looked at the kids peering out from the top of the ramp—Elara and Jax, their faces smudged with soot but their eyes filled with hope.
"The ArcVeil Guild didn't come here to be someone's private militia," I said, my voice hardening as I stepped onto the ramp. "Master Elias, Mistress Vael—get inside. We're leaving."
"Angel," I called out as the massive ramp began to hiss shut. "Spool up the repulsor lifts to maximum clearance. We're ghosts before those airships hit the docks."
"Calculations complete, Grand Architect," Angel replied. "The Pack is moving out."
The ground shook as the Archangel rose, clearing the shattered buildings of Oakhaven and turning its reinforced bow toward the untamed west. We were trading security for freedom.
As we watched the ruined city fade into the distance, a massive wall of golden system text overwrote my vision.
[SYSTEM ALERT: MAX EXPERIENCE THRESHOLD REACHED] Progenitor [Nero] has reached LEVEL 30. Progenitor [Aria] has reached LEVEL 30. Experience Gain: LOCKED.
It wasn't just us. Every frame in the Pack—Liger, Fox, Fenris, Bee, and Azazel—had hit the Level 30 cap. Angel sat at Level 20.
[CLASS UPGRADE REQUIRED TO PROCEED.] [SOUL-FRAME EVOLUTION APPROVAL REQUIRED.]
We had survived the night, but we had hit the ceiling. To face what was coming next, we had to evolve.