Beyond The Barrier

The Ironwood stretched in hushed silence, branches whispering overhead. The rebels crouched low in the undergrowth, weapons at the ready.

Rokuro leaned against the trunk of a blackened tree, “Okay, I’ll bite. Why the blue hell are Crystalor’s dogs even out here? Thought they never left their shiny bubble.”

Selka, kneeling by a root, whispered without looking up. “Normally, they don’t. The Glass Castle’s barrier covers farmland, mines, everything they need. Self-sustaining. That’s why this war has been a stalemate for so long.”

“Then why…” Rokuro frowned, eyes flicking toward the dirt road winding ahead. “Why are they hauling wagons through our woods now?”

“Our woods…” Nero smirked, scoffing.

Lykos, crouched at the front of the group, gripped his spear and didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed locked on the faint dust cloud in the distance — wheels and boots approaching.

Finally, he spoke, voice low. “Because something’s changed. And I don’t like it.”

Rokuro opened his mouth, but Nero cut in with a grin that didn’t hide the tension in his jaw. “Relax, Lock. Doesn’t matter why they’re here. Point is, they’re ours for the taking.”

The plan was simple. The caravan had to pass through this stretch of road — the only path wide enough for wagons between the Ironwood roots. Rebels lined both sides, bows trained, blades ready. Lykos had chosen this ground for a reason: there was no escape once the first strike landed.

If their supply run worked, Crystalor would win more than supplies. They’d forget that the Ironwood was untouchable to them. And the rebels couldn’t let that happen.

The first wagon creaked into view, its wheels crunching over the pale dirt. Armor gleamed in the half-light. Two soldiers walked at the front, pikes braced. More trailed the flanks, crossbows loose at their sides.

And then Rokuro’s eyes caught it.

Strapped to the lead wagon, nestled in a frame of black steel, pulsed a shard. Smaller than the one in Ashvale’s golem, but its hum carried across the road all the same. The Aether in the air recoiled.

Selka’s lips parted. “…Miniature repeller. They’re making more.”

“That explains why Ava wouldn’t fly closer,” Nero muttered, jaw tight. “Damn things…”

Lykos didn’t waste another heartbeat. His voice cut like a blade.

“Now.”

The forest erupted.

Arrows rained from both sides, slamming into armor and shields. Rebels surged from the brush with a roar, spears driving, blades flashing. The Crystalor line buckled, shouts breaking into chaos.

Rokuro vaulted the roots, gauntlet already blazing violet. He met the first guard head-on, ducked a swing, and rammed his shoulder into the man’s chest. The soldier staggered back—and Rokuro drove a glowing fist into his gut. The man lifted clear off the dirt before crumpling.

“Next!” Rokuro shouted, grinning.

Nero spun past him, daggers catching the sunlight in quicksilver arcs. Two soldiers collapsed before they even realized he was there. He flashed Rokuro a crooked grin. “Don’t fall behind, Lock.”

Selka stood at the treeline, hands shining with magic. She clapped her palms together and a surge of Aether leapt forward, exploding beneath a wagon wheel. The cart tilted, guards scrambling to keep balance as supplies spilled into the dirt.

Kagi was already deep in the fray. She blinked past two soldiers, her blade leaving streaks of violet light that carved across armor seams. Every strike was fast, catching joints and weak points, slashing across them.

Lykos was the spearhead. He charged into the thickest knot of Crystalor steel, his spear sweeping in wide arcs that cracked shields and toppled men. One thrust slammed straight through a captain’s breastplate, and with a pivot he used the body to knock two more soldiers off balance. His voice boomed over the clash, “Hold formation! Don’t let them regroup!”

Rokuro paused for a moment, looking around the field. They were… winning. In fact the Crystalor guards didn’t seem to even stand a chance. But of course some of them understood that too.

A soldier broke through the line—running, fast, straight for the woods. An escaping scout. If he made it out, the whole convoy’s defeat would lose value.

“Rokuro! Stop him!” Selka shouted.

But Rokuro was too far. His legs wouldn’t carry him in time.

Shit. Too slow!

Rokuro gritted his teeth, looking at his palm. Then he quickly remembered his Lockbreaker ability back in Ashvale… the orb he had produced… if his gauntlet could really do much more than just punch holes into armor then…

Rokuro raised his arm, closing one eye like aiming down a sight.

“What the—“ Nero paused for a second, as he brought a guard to his knees.

Rokuro saw the orb materialize in front of his palm like last time, but this time he took it one step further. He envisioned it stretching out, and hitting the guard running for his life.

“LOCKBREAKEEER—“

The sphere snapped into a beam, ripping across the clearing. It slammed into the fleeing soldier’s back with a crack of force, sending him tumbling like a ragdoll. Dust burst from the impact, leaving a long scar across the dirt.

“—SHOT!”

The battlefield froze for a heartbeat. The rebels stared, and then cheered. On the other hand the few remaining Crystalor guards either surrendered, or tasted dirt.

“Knock them down and tie them up!” Lykos ordered, and the rebels moved like a well trained unit.

“Stupid— thing!” On the other hand, Nero smashed his blade into one glowing red shard, shattering it into pieces.

As soon as the repelling shard was neutralised, two winged beasts descended from the sky, landing next to Nero.

Rokuro jumped, “Oi, where did they come from?!”

It was Ava and Lami. Despite their regal, otherworldly presence, they bounded in like oversized pets, pressing their heads against Nero with rough affection.

“Hey! Hey!” Nero laughed, “I’m okay! See?”

“Wow, that’s…” Rokuro wracked his brains for the word.

“Adorable?” Selka smiled.

“I never thought the Aetheralyx could act like…” Kagi furrowed her brows, “winged gigantic dogs.”

“Nevermind that!” Selka spun on her heel, “what was even that about?!”

She pointed a finger to Rokuro, who furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“That Lockbreaka Shotto or whatever you called it.”

“What? I thought it was a cool name. Kagi has her Keyshot doesn’t she?”

Kagi sighed, “Don’t go naming my moves too. The absurdity of yours are enough as is.”

“Why?!” Rokuro exclaimed, “Lockbreaker Shot slaps!”

“You’re gonna go from legend to anecdote if you keep that up.”

Rokuro scowled. “What?! Hitting a guy in the spine from thirty meters ain’t enough for you?!”

Rebel laughter broke the tension. For a moment, the Ironwood seemed lighter. They had supplies. They had victory. And they had the Lock—someone who wasn’t just a rumor anymore.

“Did you see what the Lock did?”

Some rebels started whispering.

“Course I did! And his Key…”

Kagi’s ear perked up.

“Fast, precise… did you see her slice that wagon frame like butter?”

“I know… She’s less a partner, more like… his weapon made flesh.”

Her face didn’t show it, but something about those words stung. That’s all she amounted to in their eyes, huh? A weapon made flesh.

“Hey.” Rokuro called out, seeing Kagi lost in thought, “You there?”

“Huh?” Kagi snapped out of it, looking back at her companions, “Yeah, sure.”

Then Lykos stepped forward, spear still in hand. His voice cut through the chatter, low and steady.

“They’re growing bolder.”

The laughter died down. Faces turned toward him.

His eyes narrowed toward the road Crystalor had marched from, a grim line set across his face.

“This Draven… he’s prepared to bring an end to our conflict.” His hand tightened on the shaft of his spear.

“One way or another.”