Chapter 88: The Red Fog

The massive steel gates of Bastion Seven loomed in the early dawn light.

A thick, unnatural red fog pressed against the towering concrete walls, swirling with the toxic miasma of the Wildlands.

The eleven students of the Special Class stood before the gates, fully armed and clad in their dark Vanguard tactical gear.

Waiting for them at the checkpoint was Student Council President Sharika Goldmane.

She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her silver eyes sweeping over the squad.

The veteran Vanguard guards stationed at the gate watched the first-years with grim, silent respect.

No one tried to stop them. The orders had come from the top of the military brass.

"You look like a proper Vanguard unit," Sharika stated, her voice cutting through the cold morning air.

"We are ready, President," Aegon replied, resting the shaft of his Blood Fire spear against his shoulder.

"Good," Sharika nodded. She stepped forward, her strict demeanor softening just a fraction.

"The uncharted territories will not show you mercy. You are operating without a safety net. Trust the person standing next to you, and do not let arrogance blind you. Bring them all back alive, Captain Logcheville."

"With my life," Aegon saluted.

Sharika returned the salute. She signaled the guards.

The heavy gears of the Bastion gates groaned. Slowly, the massive steel doors parted, revealing the dead, ruined landscape swallowed by the red fog.

The guards present on the Wall watched them pass through the gate.

One of them whispered to his mate, "Do you think they will be able to survive the Wildlands?"

The other guard who was also looking at the squad leave said, "They are the strongest prodigies the Bastions ever had. They are the future of Humanity. If someone has a burden to regain Humanity’s Prosperity back, it is them. If the Wildlands are enough to scare them, then they do not have the courage to bear that burden."

---

The squad stepped out of the cage.

As soon as the gates slammed shut behind them, the atmosphere shifted. The ambient mana in the air was heavy, aggressive, and suffocating.

Natalie Tokks immediately closed her eyes, flaring her sensory magic to blanket their surroundings.

Aegon turned to the back of the formation.

"Draven. You said you had a route. Care to tell us?"

Draven walked forward. He tapped a folded, physical Vanguard map, though he didn’t even need to look at it.

The golden interface of the Mythic World Map was already burning brightly in his mind.

"Of course, I care! I have some great connections. I utilized some of my... information channels in District Four before we left," Draven explained smoothly, referencing his underworld ties.

"This route is occasionally used by the Smugglers. Sector 44-J is a blind spot in the Vanguard’s old topographical scans. We can start mapping there."

"If the smugglers use it, it must be viable," Aegon agreed, completely trusting Draven’s tactical judgment.

"You will lead the way."

---

As the squad shifted into a diamond formation and marched into the fog, Draven walked near the center.

’Information from the smugglers? I don’t even know one. The place we are going right now, the Sector 44-J, the exact coordinate where our not so late MC, got something helpful for humanity.’ he thought as he looked at the Map.

’Using this Map, I can literally see each and everyone on this planet. Even the Leader of those Cultists is being shown. Now this is called a Cheat! Finding this legacy is a piece of Cake!’

Draven was marching the entire squad directly toward it. He was going to steal the golden boy’s destined opportunity.

---

Two hours into the march, the terrain shifted from flat, dead earth to the jagged ruins of a pre-apocalypse city.

Rusted cars and shattered skyscrapers loomed in the red mist like skeletal giants.

"Wait," Natalie hissed, holding up her hand.

"Movement. Two miles out, closing in fast. It’s a hunting pack."

"Numbers?" Aegon asked, leveling his spear.

"Twelve. Fast. High mana density. They feel like Mutated Shadow-Hounds," she reported, her voice steady.

Draven had already seen the twelve red dots on his mental map ten minutes ago.

’Alright! Time for some action! These guys better show me some good show for my efforts.’

"Defensive diamond," Aegon barked.

The squad moved with flawless synchronicity.

Bram Stonehelm slammed his massive tower shield into the dirt, anchoring the front line. Aegon stood right behind him.

Reina Frost covered the left flank, her ice axe radiating freezing mist. Lucien and Nyx vanished, melting into the shadows of the ruined buildings.

Cole Rust racked the bolt of his heavy rifle. Lyra reached for a spherical Void-Core bomb strapped to her belt.

"Hold," Draven’s voice snapped from behind them, cold and authoritative.

’These crazy guys! If you do that you will instantly kill those things. Let me enjoy some action, already!’ he thoughts as he stopped them.

Cole and Lyra froze. Draven looked at the two chaotic inventors.

"Control your urges," Draven ordered quietly.

"Standard rounds only. If you detonate a Void-Core out here, the noise will draw everything in a ten-mile radius. We are mapping, not starting a war."

Lyra sighed, reluctantly clipping the explosive back onto her belt and drawing a pair of heavy hand-cannons instead.

Cole simply nodded, raising his rifle. They obeyed instantly.

A chorus of vicious, guttural snarls echoed through the red fog.

Twelve Mutated Shadow-Hounds erupted from the ruins.

They were the size of lions, their mangy black fur absorbing the dim light, and their tails whipping wildly with jagged bone spikes.

"Engage!" Aegon roared.

The front line clashed. Bram took the charge of three hounds simultaneously. His boots slid back an inch in the mud, but his shield wall held firm.

Aegon vaulted over Bram’s shoulder, his spear igniting in a flurry of precise, lethal thrusts, piercing two hounds through the skull before his boots hit the ground.

Reina swung her ice axe, creating a localized domain of frost that shattered a leaping hound’s front legs mid-air.

In the backline, Draven watched the flow of mana. The squad was strong, but they were slightly overwhelmed by the hounds’ sheer speed.

Draven looked at the blond boy standing in the support position.

’Can’t let them get hurt here. Help them with buffs,’ Draven commanded via his mental blood-pact.

Neville’s bright blue eyes flickered. The Sovereign soul received the telepathic order and flawlessly executed its assigned role.

Neville stepped forward, clapping his hands together. A blindingly pure, golden holy aura erupted from his body.

"Aura of the Zenith!" Neville shouted, playing the desperate, helpful comrade perfectly.

A wave of warm, golden light washed over Aegon and Reina. Instantly, the fatigue in their muscles vanished.

Their speed doubled. The holy magic actively repelled the dark miasma of the hounds.

"Thanks, Neville!" Aegon yelled over the chaos.

Empowered by the buff, Aegon pushed his mana to the limit, his spear becoming a blur of crimson light that eviscerated the remaining beasts on the front line.

In the shadows, two hounds tried to flank Estella.

They didn’t make a sound before a throwing knife pierced one’s throat, and a slender rapier pierced the other’s heart.

Nyx and Lucien stepped out of the dark, wiping their blades clean.

The skirmish was over in less than two minutes. Twelve boss-tier hounds lay dead in the ruins.

"Clear," Natalie breathed, lowering her hands.

The squad relaxed. They looked at the dead monsters, then at each other. The formations had held flawlessly.

Aegon walked over to Neville and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Perfect timing on that aura. You saved us a lot of stamina."

"Just doing my part, Captain," Neville smiled humbly, lowering his head.

Draven watched from the shadows of a rusted transport truck.

’Alright! It was not so bad. They all have leveled up after experiencing the Beast Wave. Their sense of Responsibility towards this World will keep them going and pushing against their limits.’

He spun his pitch-black arrow between his fingers, a dark smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Let’s keep moving," Draven called out, pointing toward a massive, jagged mountain of rubble in the distance. Sector 44-J.

"The map says we have a long way to go."