[The Elven Mage Tower - The Northern Foothills]
The crystalline spires of the Elven Mage Tower used to glow with a blinding, majestic blue light that could be seen for hundreds of miles. Today, the tower was completely dark, casting long, pathetic shadows over the snow-covered foothills.
Without the Aegis Barrier, the freezing mountain wind howled directly through the grand archways.
Archmage Aeloria stood in the grand courtyard, her starlight robes whipping in the wind. Behind her, five hundred elite High Elves panicked, clutching their useless staffs. Without the ley-line utility that Victor had disconnected, their high-tier magic was reduced to pathetic sparks.
"Stand your ground!" Aeloria shrieked, her sapphire eyes wide with terror as the ground began to tremble. "The villain army approaches! Prepare to fight to the death!"
Over the ridge marched the two thousand students of the Abyssal Academy. Orcs, Vampires, and Dark Elves.
But they weren't roaring battle cries. They weren't swinging bloody axes.
They were jogging in perfect, disciplined formation. Every single villain was wearing a high-vis yellow corporate moving hat and carrying empty canvas sacks, clipboards, and giant rolls of enchanted bubble wrap.
Lord Sterling, the High-Vampire noble, stepped to the front of the horde. He looked down at a glowing ledger page, completely ignoring the trembling Archmage.
"Alright, shareholders!" Sterling shouted, his voice echoing off the dark tower. "The Principal has ordered a total liquidation! Remember: smashed crystals depreciate in value! If I see an Orc break a chandelier, the cost comes directly out of your quarterly dividend!"
"Protect the ROI!" a massive Barbarian roared, carefully holding a roll of packing tape.
Aeloria raised her hands, trying to summon a desperate fireball. "You will not defile our sacred halls! I am the Archmage—"
Before she could cast the spell, three Dark Elves blurred behind her, casting localized gravity magic that pinned her and her royal guard to the freezing snow.
"We don't have time for a boss fight, lady," a scarred Orc grunted, stepping over the pinned Archmage. "We're on a tight schedule. Time is money."
What followed was the most humiliating defeat in Elven history.
It wasn't a massacre; it was an incredibly efficient, hyper-organized burglary. The villains poured into the tower. Instead of burning the ancient tapestries, they carefully rolled them up and tagged them with barcodes. Instead of smashing the legendary mana crystals, they gently wrapped them in bubble wrap and packed them into padded crates.
An hour later, the tower was completely stripped. There wasn't a single silver spoon left in the dining hall.
Sterling walked out of the main gates, carrying a massive sack of flawless sapphire mana crystals. He tapped his magical calculator.
"Liquidation complete," Sterling announced. "Estimated wholesale value: Seventy-Five Million Gold."
Instantly, the pockets of two thousand villains chimed in unison. Golden receipts materialized in their hands.
[Dividend Issued: 15,000 Gold deposited to your SIP account.]
The Orcs and Vampires cheered, literally weeping with joy as they looked at their investment portfolios.
Up in his office back at the academy, Victor Thorne watched the live feed through the scrying orbs. He took a slow sip of his black coffee, a ruthless smile playing on his lips.
"A flawless quarter, Seraphina," Victor adjusted his cuffs. "Now, initiate phase two. Let's talk to the former homeowners."