The trail through the Emberlands was silent save for the distant howl of wind carving through the volcanic spires. Ash drifted gently from the sky like a somber snowfall. Each step Seth and Andrea took left behind footprints that glowed faintly against the heated earth.
Seth walked ahead, his cloak fluttering behind him, stained from battle but untouched by hesitation. Andrea followed, her gaze sharp, her mind processing more than just the terrain—they were being watched. Again.
Not by the creatures of the Emberlands, not by monsters. By something else.
Something intelligent.
"They're still tracking us," she murmured.
Seth didn't slow. "I know."
His tone held no urgency. Only certainty. His awareness of the world around him was surgical—he didn't need to turn to know where the shadows lingered or how many eyes watched from the ridges above.
Andrea's hands glowed faintly, her fire magic simmering just beneath the surface. "Could be scouts. Maybe those from the Rift Clade?"
Seth's answer was simple. "Not Rift. Too quiet."
Andrea raised an eyebrow. The Rift Clade were one of the academy's rival factions—rogue students who rejected the system and trained under the table. But even they had tells. These ones? Ghosts.
They crested a hill—and then they saw it.
Charred bodies. Dozens. Not fresh, but recent enough. Academy robes. Some still clutching broken staffs, shattered weapons. What remained of a scout unit sent ahead by the professors. Whatever killed them hadn't left clean wounds—just blackened craters and twisted limbs, signs of high-intensity mana combustion.
Andrea knelt beside one of them, her voice cold. "This wasn't a monster."
"No. It was a message."
Seth scanned the horizon. His eyes glowed faintly with green light, the runes in his irises activating. Spatial readings returned nothing—too distorted. Someone was cloaking the area with layered folds. Not just magic, but advanced dimensional disruption.
He clicked his tongue.
"And they know I can see it."
A long, slow breath left Andrea's lips. She stood, fire starting to ripple along her shoulders like a warning. "They're not just watching us. They're testing us. Probing."
"They'll get their answer."
Seth turned and raised a hand. A ripple tore through the air behind them, space bending as he opened a micro-portal—a short-range loop that sent a silent pulse through the surrounding fold. Like sonar.
For a split second, he caught a flicker. A figure. Tall. Armored. Gone.
"Level of threat?" Andrea asked, her hand hovering near her blade.
"Enough that they're not attacking. Which means they're cautious. Or they're waiting."
Seth knelt and pressed two fingers to the scorched ground. Green light radiated through the rock beneath them—he wasn't sensing for mana anymore. He was listening to the memory of the space itself.
"There's a scar here. A clash between time-folding magic and spatial compression. Someone warped this place to cover a retreat—or a ritual."
Andrea narrowed her eyes. "Ritual?"
Seth nodded slowly. "Or a summoning."
Before she could ask more, the ground trembled.
From the distance, something awakened.
A pressure unlike anything in the Emberlands before. Not mana. Not ki. Not natural.
It was presence.
Heavy. Focused. Ancient.
A figure rose over the volcanic ridge ahead—twice the height of a man, cloaked in deep crimson robes, face obscured by an angular obsidian mask. Its arms were folded, but even from that distance, its stillness screamed of confidence.
Andrea's fire pulsed. "That's not a monster."
Seth's expression remained unreadable. "No."
"It's not a professor either."
"Correct again."
"…Then what is it?"
Seth's next words were laced with something Andrea had never heard in his voice before. Not fear. Not awe.
Something close to amusement.
"An introduction."
The robed figure raised a hand. Not a single movement wasted.
And then, the air fractured.
A blast wave of force, silent but overwhelming, carved through the land like a guillotine. Seth and Andrea reacted in tandem—her fire surged into a barrier of phoenix flame, his spatial magic folding space itself into a mirrored shield.
They slid back, boots dragging sparks across the scorched stone. The impact didn't strike them directly. That wasn't the point.
It was a greeting.
A message: I am here.
Seth exhaled. "He's not here to fight."
Andrea shook the heat off her arms, sweat trailing down her neck. "He could've killed us."
"But he didn't." Seth stepped forward, eyes glowing once more. "This isn't random. He's part of something bigger."
He looked toward the fading silhouette of the masked figure, who now turned and vanished into the smoke like a whisper returning to legend.
Seth muttered under his breath.
"…And now the real game begins."