The day of departure came fast.

After immersing himself in training inside his Domain, Damon spent almost every waking hour fighting against his summon, trying to grasp more secrets of the Abyssal Sword Art.

Somewhere in between, he was visited by a number of people, each trying to convince him to let them join, the first one being Nyla.

She was determined to join him, spending almost twenty minutes coming up with new ideas that she thought would be enough of a reason, but they weren’t. He rejected her in the same way he rejected Ning Xiaoyu and told the two to train together.

Eve was the next to visit him, trying to use her newly evolved class as the reason to join him, but Damon was quick to shut her down. Victor was the last to visit, and although he didn’t ask to join directly, he did say things that suggested he wanted to. Of course, with how important his role at the citadel was, there was no chance of him leaving, at least not for a mission this dangerous.

Then, after days inside his domain, which had only been hours on earth, the day arrived.

Damon met Ivy in the grand hall, still giving last-second instructions to Hana, who was made the temporary leader of the citadel, alongside Victor.

She had traded her mundane dress for something a little more practical. She wore a pair of long boots which stretched just beyond her knees. Above, she was wearing a dress which was fitted with numerous metal parts, providing greater protection in the most vital areas while keeping the outfit light and flexible.

Her gaze met his the second she finished talking.

"You ready?" Damon asked.

Ivy nodded. "Lead the way."

The target of the enemy operation, the A-Rank rift, was far, which is why they had to leave Thursday afternoon to be there by Friday morning. It was on the far outskirts of the city, beyond the enemy citadel, which they would have to circle around not to raise any attention to themselves.

The city thinned as they moved southwest.

Buildings gave way to open ground, which then gave way to industrial stretches, before those gave way to something wilder, almost desolate.

They gave the second citadel a wide berth, circling south through a stretch of collapsed warehouses that provided cover without requiring them to slow down significantly. Ivy navigated the terrain without complaint, picking her footing carefully across the uneven ground, her metal-fitted dress catching the last of the afternoon light as it faded.

By the time the sun had fully set, they were past the citadel’s territory and moved through the ground neither side had claimed.

They found shelter before midnight. It was a partially standing office building two hundred meters from the rift’s location, its upper floor collapsed inward, but the ground level was intact enough to provide cover and sightlines.

From its eastern windows, they had a clear view of the rift.

It hung in the air above a wide, cracked plaza, larger than any Damon had encountered before. The darkness of it was absolute, pulling at the light around it the way every rift always did, not just a tear in space but a weight, a presence that made the air around it feel thinner and the ground beneath it feel less certain.

With the target in sight and the moon at its peak, they settled down.

The sun slowly began to rise.

Neither of them had slept. They’d taken turns watching the rift through the night, the other resting against the wall in the particular half-sleep of people too alert to fully let go.

By the time the first grey light touched the plaza, Damon was at the window, and Ivy was beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.

They heard the enemies arrive before they finally saw them.

Five figures emerged from the western approach at a pace that suggested they’d been walking for a while now.

They moved with the organised efficiency of people who had prepared for this and knew their roles. None looked nervous, but focused in the way that implied they understood exactly what they were walking into.

The first was broad and tall, carrying a greataxe across his back that was clearly a relic, the faint shimmer of it visible even at a distance. He walked at the front, which told you something about how the group was structured.

Beside him, a lean figure with twin daggers holstered at both hips moved with the particular ease of someone whose fighting style depended on not wasting a single motion.

Behind them, a man in heavy plate armour carried a tower shield that he wore rather than held, the metal armour covering his body from shoulders to feet. He moved slower than the others but steadily, clearly the frontline of the group.

The fourth was the only woman. She was a lot shorter than the others, with dark hair pulled back, carrying a staff that hummed faintly with mana even at this distance. She walked slightly apart from the group, her eyes moving across the surroundings rather than the rift. There was a lot more caution in her gaze than that of her companions.

The fifth hung at the rear. He wore a hooded cloak with a longbow across his back, and a large quiver filled with arrows was visible at his hip. He moved quietly, and his gaze seemed completely unfocused, almost as if he trusted his hearing more than his eyes.

They stopped only a step away from the rift’s edge, having a brief exchange amongst each other, one that Damon couldn’t hear, before suddenly stepping one by one into the rift.

Damon and Ivy watched them all enter before they turned to each other, and a quiet understanding passed between them.

"Ready?" he asked, though he could already see the answer on her face.

"Lead the way," she said simply.

And with it, the two of them stepped out of the building and crossed the plaza below toward the A-Rank rift.