The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Chapter 328 A Reckless Victory

Come on, come on...

The guardian screeched again, a terrible, voiceless roar. Mist exploded outward, nearly engulfing Vyrelda. She stumbled back with a ragged breath, her sword arm trembling. Mikhailis's heart pounded. Another few seconds and she'd be overwhelmed.

I have to do this now.

His palm settled on the largest central rune, an oblong shape etched with subtle grooves. It felt right. The second his skin made contact, the rune flashed with an almost blinding brightness. The air crackled with arcane energy, and the entire chamber's temperature dropped, as though a sudden winter wind had swept through.

The guardian froze mid-attack, its swirling form flickering like a candle flame in the wind. For a moment, Mikhailis thought it might vanish completely, but then it convulsed, struggling against invisible chains that bound it to the system. The console's glow intensified, a rhythmic pulse that matched Mikhailis's racing heartbeat.

Rodion's voice pulsed with excitement.

He pressed the final input—a symbol that resembled two interlocked circles. The lines on the console flared one last time, and the guardian emitted a keening wail that resonated like a physical force, pushing everyone back a step. Then, abruptly, it went still. Its vaporous limbs collapsed inward, form dissolving into harmless fog.

Silence.

Even the rumbling tremors subsided, leaving only the echo of Mikhailis's ragged breathing in the dark.

He swallowed, noticing the Crownless operative sagging against the wall, face etched with something akin to awe—or was it relief? Vyrelda, panting, lowered her sword. She cast him a glare that mixed both chastisement and grudging respect.

"You nearly got us killed," she said, her voice rough.

Mikhailis forced a lopsided grin. "But I didn't, did I?"

Though it was damn close.

Vyrelda sniffed. "You're reckless."

He chuckled, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. "Would you like me if I wasn't?"

She only rolled her eyes, too exhausted for retorts. The Crownless operative pulled themselves upright, giving Mikhailis a long, unreadable look. "I won't ask how you did that."

Mikhailis shrugged, still feeling the lingering tingle where the console's energy had coursed through him. "I'm not sure either. But it worked."

Rodion's calm, formal voice interrupted his thoughts:

He felt relief wash over him, though a hint of curiosity still crackled in his mind. The entity they'd fought was a defense system, sure, but it had also seemed aware—like it was capable of reacting beyond mere programming. A living extension of the ruin's ancient magic, perhaps. Stay tuned to My Virtual Library Empire

The operative cleared their throat. "You... might have saved us all, or you might've just triggered something worse. I can't tell yet."

Mikhailis let out a breathless laugh. "Sounds like my average Tuesday."

But, next time, a little more warning would be nice.

Vyrelda slid her sword back into its sheath, her posture still guarded. "We should leave. The entire city probably felt that disturbance. If the Technomancers or your Crownless friends didn't know we were here, they do now."

She didn't respond, but a hint of a smirk pulled at her lips. "You think a drink will solve all your problems?"

He laughed, a genuine warmth cutting through the lingering fear in his chest. "Worth a try. Though I doubt anything is strong enough to numb the headache of dealing with ancient ruins and living mist."

Vyrelda's gaze slid sideways, regarding him with an odd mix of frustration and amusement. "You're lucky I don't follow strict orders from Elowen. Otherwise, I'd knock you unconscious and drag you back home."

Mikhailis gave a theatrical bow, despite the cramped alley. "Your devotion flatters me."

She snorted. "Don't mistake my devotion. I'm just trying to make sure you don't die under my watch."

He patted her shoulder, still grinning. "I appreciate that."

A moment of silence passed between them, and then he took a step forward, peering out of the alleyway. The city's mist seemed thicker than ever, swirling around corners, pooling in gutters. Even from here, he could sense how wrong it was, artificially guided by forces hidden beneath the streets.

But it's not unstoppable.

He felt that truth in the ruins. Serewyn once controlled its own fate.

Rodion's voice broke into his thoughts, calm but carrying an edge of sarcasm.

He rolled his eyes but nodded inwardly. "Alright, let's find the rest before we do anything else reckless."

Vyrelda steadied her breathing, pushing off from the wall. "I'm with you. But next time you stick your hand on a strange console, I might just let you get shocked."

Mikhailis shot her a playful grin. "You'd never. You secretly enjoy my escapades."

"Keep telling yourself that," she muttered. But there was a faint softness in her gaze, a subtle acceptance that yes, she might not entirely regret keeping him alive.

Brushing the last flecks of dust from his coat, Mikhailis led the way into the next street, the swirling mist enveloping them once more. Above, the faint outline of Luthadel's towering spires loomed like silent watchers, their presence oppressive under the thick fog. Somewhere in those spires, the Technomancers plotted, and somewhere beneath them, a centuries-old machine had just awakened, only to be silenced again.

For now.

He felt the device in his pocket—the stolen badge that had proven worthless to the ancient system. But worthless only in the ruins. In the city's modern infrastructure, it was still a key that might open the Technomancers' secrets. And the knowledge he'd gained here? It might be the wedge needed to break their stranglehold.

He inhaled the damp, cold air, a note of determination flickering in his eyes.

"All right," he murmured. "Back to the surface game."

Vyrelda nodded in agreement, following him into the fog-laden streets.

Everything else could wait—until the next crisis found them, anyway.

And in Luthadel, crises had a way of tracking him down with uncanny speed.

But let them come. I'm ready... or at least, I'll pretend to be.

The thought tugged a wry smile to his lips as they vanished into the swirling mist.

Everything went dark.