Far away from the routes taken by Erend, Eccar, Aesa, and Sylven, the fifth expedition also continued advancing through another corrupted region of the world.

The landscape around them looked devastated beyond recognition now. Great cracks split the earth apart and corruption spread through the ground like diseased veins. Entire hills had collapsed into vast sinkholes. Black and red mist drifted across the terrain and occasionally twisted into strange shapes before dissolving again.

Despite the dangers surrounding them, the expedition continued moving forward.

At the front of the formation, Erend’s clone led the advance.

To everyone else, he looked no different from the original Dragonborn. The same appearance, same power, same determination.

More importantly, he shared the original Erend’s consciousness.

Everything Erend saw and thought flowed directly into the clone like the anger toward the Void Architect, the worry for the kingdoms, and the urgency to obtain the fragments before it became too late.

The clone carried all of it. His eyes narrowed as he looked toward the exhausted expedition members behind him.

Just like the other groups, they had received fragments of Velrion’s warning. Just like the others, many of them worried constantly about the fate of their families.

But they continued moving. That alone earned the Erend’s respect.

Without slowing his pace, he raised one hand. Immediately, red Dragon Magic erupted around his body.

Unlike ordinary Magic, this power came directly from the original Erend himself. He shared his Magic with his clone. Because the clone remained connected to the Dragonborn, he could draw upon that same immense energy and share it with those around him.

Streams of crimson light spread out. The Dragon Magic descended across the expedition like a flowing tide.

The effect was immediate like what happened before. The soldiers felt strength surge back into their exhausted limbs, their aching muscles recovered, their breathing steadied, and even their minds seemed clearer beneath the Dragonborn’s power.

Several expedition members looked down at the crimson aura surrounding them.

Then Erend’s clone’s voice rose across the formation. "Keep moving!"

The expedition immediately accelerated. Their footsteps thundered against the broken ground. Magic reinforcement formations flashed beneath countless feet.

The entire force surged forward faster than ever before.

The clone continued scanning the horizon. Then suddenly, he felt the familiar energy.

His eyes immediately sharpened. The fragment was very closed now.

A faint smile appeared on his face for the first time in hours.

He immediately looked back toward the expedition.

"We’re almost there. The fragment is ahead!" he shouted.

The exhausted soldiers immediately lifted their heads.nHope spreads rapidly through them.

The clone pointed toward the distant horizon where faint waves of energy occasionally flickered through the corruption-filled air.

"That’s our destination!"

The expedition members tightened their grips on their weapons. Now they could finally see the end of this stage of their mission.

"Come on. Move!" the clone roared.

The fifth expedition answered with a unified shout before surging forward.

Like the other four expeditions racing through different corners of the corrupted world, they pushed toward the fragment with everything they had.

Every one of them understood that the faster they reached the fragment, the faster they could return home and join the desperate battle for the survival of their world.

—

Leonora continued fighting. From the highest tower of the capital, King Garrie stood overlooking the city while chaos unfolded below him.

The sight made his heart sink. The defenders were winning individual battles. Knights cut down monsters. Mages unleashed devastating spells. Spirit users and archers rained destruction across entire streets. Every few moments another corrupted creature fell.

Yet none of it seemed to matter because for every creature that died, another emerged.

The portals scattered throughout the capital continued pulsing endlessly. Black-red energy swirled within their depths before more monsters crawled out.

Some emerged in small groups. Others emerged in dozens at once. A few emerged as a gigantic horrors that required entire squads to bring down.

The defenders fought desperately. But the enemy never stopped.

King Garrie’s hands slowly tightened around the stone railing.

His eyes moved from one battlefield to another. Entire districts had already become war zones. Fires burned across sections of the city. Medical stations overflowed with wounded soldiers. Messenger birds and communication spirits flew constantly across the skies as commanders attempted to coordinate defenses.

Every report arriving at the tower seemed worse than the last.

The king hated it. He hated standing here while watching his people suffer. Yet he knew that abandoning his position would accomplish nothing. The kingdom needed leadership now more than ever.

As he watched another wave of creatures emerge from a portal deep within the city, bigger fear entered his heart.

Not fear for himself but for Leonora.

Fear that eventually the defenders would simply run out of strength before the enemy ran out of monsters.

Above the city Archmage Velrion also continued fighting his own battle. Countless spirit manifestations filled the skies around him.

Silver-blue spirits rushed through the fight below.

They attacked the creatures directly or shielded wounded defenders from fatal blows.

Many spirits carried injured civilians away from dangerous areas.

Several powerful healing spirits moved from battlefield to battlefield while continuously pouring restorative energy into wounded soldiers.

The entire network operated through Velrion’s will alone.

Every spirit, command, and movement required his concentration.

Sweat continuously rolled down the Archmage’s face. His breathing had grown heavier long ago.

The failed communication attempt with the expeditions had already drained a tremendous amount of his power. Now he continuously spent even more Magic trying to hold the city together.

Yet he refused to stop. Every life saved mattered. Every soldier returned to battle mattered.

Every minute they bought for the expeditions mattered.

But even while directing countless spirits throughout Leonora, another burden never left his thoughts.

The Sky Anchor. His real task remained unfinished. Velrion’s eyes darkened.

He still had not finished the formula. He still had not found the proper sequence required to rewrite the Sky Anchor. Its design was simply too vast and too ancient.

Time was running out.

He already knew the other Archmages throughout the kingdoms were likely suffering exactly as he was.

They were probably fighting their own portal outbreaks. Protecting their own capitals while also trying desperately to decode impossible equations while entire kingdoms collapsed around them.

The situation kept worsening. And still no solution appeared. Genuine despair began creeping into Velrion’s heart.

Not because he lacked determination. But because he understood the scale of the problem better than almost anyone alive.

The enemy had attacked every weakness simultaneously.

The kingdoms were bleeding. The Archmages were overwhelmed. The Sky Anchor remained unsolved. And the expeditions were still racing toward fragments they had not yet secured.

Velrion slowly closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Please hurry..."

The thought escaped him before he could stop it.

—