Extra's Sign In System: The Hero's an Idiot!

Chapter 176: Chapter 176: The Accelerated Clock

Chapter 176: The Accelerated Clock

The heat of the lower tunnels was a suffocating blanket.

Nyx slipped through the dark stone corridors. She kept her footsteps completely silent. Her eyes scanned the shadows for any Dwarven patrols.

Right behind her walked Lucien. The swordsman was sweating heavily beneath his human diplomat uniform. He carried the Captain over his right shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

Natalie brought up the rear. She kept her Elven bow knocked with a glowing wind arrow.

They had successfully left the pulsing red glare of the Verdant Canopy far behind them. The crisp air of the Elven gardens was replaced by the heavy scent of sulfur and burning coal.

They navigated deeper into the mountain. They moved past the roaring blast furnaces and the crowded military sectors of Stoneheart City.

Nyx raised her fist. She stopped in front of a massive iron grate built into the side of a jagged cavern wall.

"This is it," Nyx whispered in the dark. "The coordinates Cole told us."

She slid her obsidian dagger into the rusted lock mechanism. A quick twist popped the heavy latch.

CLACK.

She pulled the iron grate open. Lucien stepped inside with his heavy burden. Natalie slipped in right behind them and pulled the grate shut.

They stood inside the Ash Caverns.

It was a massive, abandoned magma-ventilation chamber. Towering pillars of hardened black slag rose to the ceiling. The floor was covered in a thick layer of fine gray ash.

A small, smokeless campfire burned in the center of the cavern.

Cole Rust and Bram Stoneheart stood near the fire. They both gripped their heavy weapons, ready for an ambush.

Bram lowered his massive shield the moment he recognized the diplomat uniform.

"You made it," Bram breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Cole stepped forward. The young blacksmith took one look at the limp figure draped over Lucien’s shoulder. His eyes widened in sheer horror.

"Put him down gently," Cole urged, quickly clearing a space on a flat slab of stone.

Lucien carefully lowered the Captain onto the makeshift stone bed.

The Captain looked terrible. The rugged face of the Nordic guard was deathly pale. A thick trail of dried black blood stained his chin and his heavy iron chainmail. Every breath he took sounded like grinding glass.

"His mana channels are completely fractured," Lucien reported grimly.

"He used high-tier spatial magic to bypass the prison root. The physical backlash nearly tore this host body in half."

Cole quickly reached into his canvas satchel. He pulled out a small glass vial filled with a glowing green liquid.

"It is a low-tier healing potion," Cole explained, popping the cork.

"I stole a crate of them from the military barracks today."

Bram knelt beside the stone slab. He carefully propped the Captain’s head up.

Cole pressed the glass vial to the Captain’s pale lips. He tilted the glowing green liquid into his mouth.

The Captain coughed weakly. He swallowed the bitter potion.

A faint, soothing green light pulsed beneath the skin of his chest. The low-tier magic was not nearly strong enough to repair the catastrophic damage caused by the [Void-Step]. It barely acted as a temporary bandage over his shattered internal organs.

But it was enough to keep the host body breathing.

The Captain slowly opened his pitch-black eyes. He blinked against the dim light of the campfire.

"Captain," Nyx said softly, kneeling beside him. "We are secure. We are in the Ash Caverns."

The Captain wiped the remaining blood from his mouth with a trembling iron gauntlet. He forced himself into a sitting position against a pillar of slag.

"Status," the Captain commanded. His voice was incredibly raspy, but the weight of his authority remained perfectly intact.

"Lyra and Estella are cut off," Natalie reported, lowering her bow. "The Elven canopy went into full lockdown the moment they discovered the empty cell. Our mages are trapped in the upper gardens."

"They will survive," the Captain stated firmly. "Focus on the objective. We need to know Lionel’s next move."

---

Far above the Ash Caverns, inside a lavish estate in the human diplomatic sector, panic consumed the air.

Lord-Emissary Lionel paced furiously across his expensive velvet rugs. He gripped a crystal goblet of wine so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

A corrupted human messenger knelt on the floor in front of him.

"Say it again," Lionel hissed. His eyes twitched with unnatural, dark purple energy.

"The Elven High Prison was breached, my Lord," the messenger trembled. "The prisoner known as Ilithyia is gone. The Elven guards found her cell completely empty."

SHATTER!

Lionel hurled his crystal goblet against the marble fireplace. Red wine splattered across the flames like fresh blood.

"Impossible," Lionel snarled, tearing at his own hair.

The Treachery-Fiend parasite buried deep inside Lionel’s brain writhed in anger. The master plan was falling apart. The King Level Beast had orchestrated the perfect framed assassination. The Dwarves were supposed to demand the Elven prisoner’s head.

"Did the Elves discover the forged wax seal?" Lionel demanded frantically. "Did they realize she was framed?"

"We do not know, my Lord," the messenger replied.

Lionel stared at the roaring fireplace. His mind raced with paranoid calculations.

If the Elves interrogated the prisoner and discovered the truth, his entire treasonous network would be exposed. He could not wait for the scheduled peace summit next week. He had to force the Forge-King’s hand immediately. He needed the Dwarves to march on the canopy tonight.

Lionel’s eyes glowed with a sickening, corrupted light.

"The Elves broke the assassin out to hide the truth," Lionel whispered to himself. A wicked, desperate smile spread across his face.

He spun around and grabbed a stack of blank parchment from his desk. He began scribbling furiously with a heavy quill.

"This is the perfect excuse," Lionel muttered, his pen tearing into the paper.

"I will tell Forge-King Thorgar that the Elves deliberately freed the killer to mock the Dwarves. The Elven High Council has chosen war over justice."

Lionel finished writing five identical letters. He sealed them with heavy black wax.

He threw the letters onto the floor in front of the kneeling messenger.

"Take these to my elite shadow riders," Lionel commanded.

"Tell them to deliver these letters to the Dwarven frontline commanders and the Elven border wardens immediately."

The messenger gathered the letters quickly. "What are the new orders, my Lord?"

"The peace summit is no longer scheduled for next week," Lionel declared, his voice dripping with venom.

"Tell them the summit will happen at dawn tomorrow. The 24-hour clock starts now. By tomorrow morning, Thaldrasil will burn."

---

Back in the dim light of the Ash Caverns.

Lucien stood near the entrance grate. He held a small, glowing communication crystal to his ear. As a junior diplomat, he possessed a direct link to the human sector’s intelligence network.

The crystal went dark. Lucien turned back to the campfire. His face was entirely grim.

"Lionel is panicking," Lucien reported to the squad.

"He just issued a massive decree. He is claiming the Elves broke Nyx out of prison to hide their guilt. He has moved the joint peace summit to dawn tomorrow."

Cole cursed loudly. He kicked a loose piece of slag across the cavern.

"Dawn? That gives us less than twenty-four hours!" Cole yelled.

Bram tightened his grip on his heavy shield. "If Lionel delivers those fake declarations of war tonight, the Dwarven military will not wait for the summit. They will launch the siege weapons."

The Captain sat against the black pillar. He closed his eyes and took a slow, agonizing breath.

He activated his passive [Kinetic Mana Circulation Technique]. He focused the meager trickle of regenerated mana entirely inward. He desperately tried to bind his fractured internal organs together with microscopic kinetic pressure.

He opened his pitch-black eyes. He looked at his squad.

"The timeline is accelerated," the Captain stated coldly. "But the shadow operation remains the same."

He pointed a trembling finger at Cole and Bram.

"You two are going back into the Great Forge tonight," the Captain commanded.

"You cannot stall the production lines anymore. You have to physically dismantle the siege weapons. Break the firing mechanisms. Steal the runic cores. Do whatever it takes to ensure those ballistae do not fire at dawn."

Cole cracked his knuckles. A fierce grin spread across his soot-stained face.

"Consider it done, Captain."

The Captain turned his head, his gaze shifting to Nyx and Lucien.

"Lionel has dispatched his corrupted envoys to deliver the fake declarations of war," the Captain continued.

"If those letters reach the Elven High Council or the Dwarven frontline commanders, the armies will march before the sun rises."

Nyx drew her obsidian dagger. She spun it flawlessly between her fingers.

"We intercept the messengers," Nyx concluded.

"No survivors. No witnesses," the Captain ordered. "Leave their bodies in the shadows."

"And what about you, Captain?" Lucien asked, looking at the pool of dried blood on the stone slab.

"I am going to rest," the Captain said, leaning his head back against the pillar.

"I will rebuild my strength for tomorrow. When the sun rises, we are going to breach Lionel’s heavily fortified estate. We are going to crash that summit."

The squad nodded in perfect unison. They did not question his orders.

Cole and Bram grabbed their heavy gear and headed for the iron grate. Lucien and Nyx melted seamlessly into the dark corners of the cavern.

The 24-hour countdown to a brutal civil war had officially begun.

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