The wind scoured the crimson slopes of Firme like a living thing - dry, hot, and filled with dust the colour of dried blood.
Fengyu vaulted down from the high-perched gate after his new guards.
Sending them ahead had been the right call. The poachers had posted sentries.
Clearly, their brute-force escape last time had left a mark. And perhaps Master Brug had pieced things together.
The first sentry never saw it coming. A black glaive scythed out of nowhere, hooked around his ankle, and yanked. He toppled down - but before he could scream, Lao Zhan caught him mid-fall by the collar. A knee drove into the man's gut with ruthless precision. The poacher folded like wet paper.
"Pathetic," Lao Zhan muttered, letting him crumple to the ground.
A second sentry managed to fire - a bolt thudded into Tie Dun's shield. The big man surged forward, all brute mass and momentum, slamming the poacher against the rock with a bone-shaking crack. One punch to the temple and the man dropped.
The third sentry fumbled for his horn, fingers shaking.
"Ah-ah," a sing-song voice teased from above.
Huo Yan dropped like fire, with a long arch in the air landing on the man's shoulders. A flash of steel - the hilt of his dagger cracked against the back of the sentry's skull. As the man staggered, Huo Yan swept his legs out from under him with a lazy kick. He dropped face-first into the dirt.
"Boring," Huo Yan muttered, twirling his knife.
Fengyu applauded slowly. "Well. That was almost as fun as watching a landslide."
Lao Zhan shot him a glare. "You were supposed to stay behind."
Fengyu shrugged. "And miss the show?"
He nudged a groaning poacher with his boot. "Besides, now we have friends to chat with."
Huo Yan perked up. "Ooooh, interrogations? Can I light things on fire?"
Tie Dun sighed. Loudly.
Behind them the air still shimmered faintly. Master Kaelji stepped through the gates and jumped down with surprising agility, his robes only slightly ruffled by the dry wind. Joy followed in his wake.
Kaelji's gaze swept across the downed poachers, then moved to Fengyu.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself," he said mildly.
Fengyu smiled, only a little embarrassed. He did revel in his new found authority and having his lethal guards.
Lao Zhan didn't waste time.
He crouched before one of the poachers and applied a pressure hold that made the man's jaw lock open in a breathless grimace. No threats, just pain.
"Talk," Lao Zhan said flatly.
The man spilled what he knew. There was no loyalty in his eyes, just the dull instinct of survival.
"The outpost's got maybe fifteen men," he muttered, spitting blood into the dust.
"Only three sentries," he added. "We swap every day at sunrise. It's a long trek up the mountain."
"Who's in charge?" Fengyu asked.
The man did not answer immediately. Not out of defiance – just calculation.
After a pause he muttered.
"They call the chief Karsh. No surname. Just Karsh. Tall, rough-cut. He's got a right hand. Mirok. Shorter, wiry. Karsh speaks, Mirok follows it through."
"And the mage?"
"The mage. He is not in the outpost. He lives in the settlement, down in the valley. Goes by Ashen."
Fengyu didn't respond right away.
"Then tell me," he asked, voice lower, "how did this place begin? When? Why?"
The man shook his head. "I don't know. I joined a few months ago. I had met Mirok at the guild's doorstep. He had only asked 'You want to eat or not?' They don't tell new blood anything. Nor that I am particularly interested."
"How about that settlement? Have you been there?"
He gave a small nod.
"It's down in the valley, where the stream spreads out. The land flattens there - soft grass, good water. The place has meadowland. Real meadowland. Almost pretty."
Fengyu said nothing, letting him fill the silence. As he had already started talking there was no point in holding off any information he had.
"They farm there. Herbs. Rare ones. For tinctures or poisons - I don't know. But they grow clean, fast, and strong. Must be something in the soil."
Fengyu's eyes narrowed. "Does Ashen run it?"
The man nodded.
"And the workers?"
"Real farmers. They live better down there than we do up here. But they are not allowed outside."
"Do they not catch beasts there?"
"Oh, no. That is our job. In the mist."
He shifted, trying to wipe his nose on his sleeve. "Down there in the valley, it's too mellow, too tame. The beasts don't like it there. They like the mist - where the air from the valley meets the scorched air of the mountains' peaks. That's where the big ones prowl. They nest just at the edge of heat."
"And the Guild buys from you?"
"It buys. We send crates in the night. Doesn't matter. The stuff disappears."
Fengyu tilted his head. "Who exactly from the Guild?"
The man gave him a look. "Man, I don't know. I carry crates. They let us in through some old cellar, deep down in the dungeons. Forgotten servant's gate or something."
"We haul the stuff in and pretend we're invisible. No questions. No names. Just eyes looking past you. I don't mind, as long as I get a few hours in the city now and then. A delicious meal. Maybe a night with someone soft and smiling."
"And they just let you leave?" Fengyu asked.
"Yeah. So long as you keep your damn mouth shut. That's the only rule that matters. You talk, you disappear."
Fengyu said nothing.
Seer Joy let out a quiet breath.
"A nice, quiet economy. Efficient."
"How deep in the Guild does this thing reach?" Fengyu mussed under his breath.
Then struck by the idea he asked the poacher. "Do you know the name of this place?"
"The name. Does it have a name?"
"So, that is a no."
He did not know where he was. Nor that he was particularly interested.
Fengyu suspected even the name Firme was never spoken aloud. Only ever "the mountains," "the valley," "that drop site." Keep it vague.
Only a handful would know it was Firme. Who exactly? How did they know? Officially, it was forgotten, or deliberately mislabelled. This wasn't a rogue operation, but also wasn't an official one.
Someone in the middle of the Guild had set this up - just enough authority to open gates and redirect crates. Not high enough to draw notice. Not low enough to be powerless. That was the cleverest kind of corruption.
Fengyu noticed that Joy and Master Kaelji hadn't said a word during the interrogation. They stood apart, watching him - not the prisoner - with a silence more unsettling than anything said aloud.
A chill slid down his spine, though he couldn't name the feeling. Was it approval in their eyes? Or quiet calculation? Were they observing a promising talent - or weighing a future threat?
"We need to anchor the gate," Joy said at last.
From within his robes, he drew a metal object shaped like a lotus in bloom.
"It binds the gate to a single destination," he continued. "This is how the mountain gates in Pantax were sealed. Half asleep, with only one place they'd ever answer to. It keeps energy costs low and access limited."
"It will bind this gates to Mytharok. You can get here only from the Temple or if the Temple redirects the connection."
Fengyu's brow furrowed. "But the Guild could still force the gate from their side. They don't need the counterpart open. We need guardians to secure the place and eradicate the poachers."
"Oh, that. We will manage that," said Master Kaelji. "Just a couple of people. We do not want to draw attention."
"But the Guild will know soon anyway," protested Fengyu.
"That we don't know. We don't know who in the Guild is responsible for this nice little operation. It's definitely not official. Once the Temple officially announce finding Firme, they will not be able to do anything."
"Still, they can force through their gates here and attack," protested Fengyu.
"Don't worry." Joy smiled. "Forcing connection is a blast of energy. The Temple will see it coming. And there is a reason the Guild has not tried it in years. We just need to keep the gates secure on this end."
Fengyu turned his gaze outward.
The crimson cliffs. The warped vegetation. The dry, suffocating wind. This strange, empty land.
"So that's it?" he said. "We just sit on this place and wait?"
"What about the poachers?" he added after a beat.
Master Kaelji's response was almost dismissive. "Without the gate, they're stranded. They know it. Their advantage was secrecy. Strip that away, and they're nothing. That mage, Ashen, he might play sorcerer in a valley of farmers, but he's no match for trained ones."
He peered over his glasses at Fengyu, eyes glinting. "Never underestimate magic."
Fengyu fell silent.
This mission was subtler than he'd imagined. No battles, no banners, just containment, observation and quiet pressure. But something still itched at the edge of his mind.
What if Karsh, or the mage Ashen, had prepared for this? What if they had another way out? What if they had plans of their own? That all was too easy.
Joy stepped toward the gate, holding the lotus-shaped seal in one hand. He just raised the artifact and let it hover. Slowly, it drifted from his palm, pulled forward by its own quiet force.
The lotus glided through the air and came to rest against the top of the gate's arch. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the seal began to shimmer - soft, pale light pulsing from its centre. The light bloomed across the gate, faint veins of energy tracing through its frame.
There was a sudden flash and stillness followed. And then it was over.
The lotus had vanished - absorbed. The gates looked exactly as it had before. Nothing to betray that anything had changed.
Fengyu glanced at Joy, who simply nodded.
"It's bound," Joy said. "Only Mytharok can call it now."
The sealed gate stood still. Then a soft pulse rippled through the air. Dust lifted from the ground in a lazy swirl. The gate stirred to life again.
The first figure stepped through - a guardian in polished traveling armour, his face unreadable beneath the shaded helm. A couple of more followed, one by one, until a full squad stood at attention, Quiet and disciplined.
Then came a woman in black and silver - Master Lira.
"Well done," she said, eyes flicking to the scene before her.
Behind her, walking with less formality but unmistakable confidence, came Mokai.
"Glad you made it," Fengyu said.
"You too," Mokai replied. "Though I suppose the fun's already started without me."
Fengyu gave the faintest smirk. "You're just in time."
They trekked down the mountain with unhurried steps, the crimson dust rising soft around their boots.
The guardians were left at the gates to create a formal outpost of the Temple with habitable lodgings. They were not interested in poaching or farming, but simply securing the gates. At least now.
In the afternoon, as the sun began its slow lean toward the horizon, they reached the outpost.
They didn't sneak. They didn't announce themselves. They simply walked in.
A few heads turned. Then more. Silence followed them like a shadow. Men paused with half-split logs still in hand. Someone dropped a bowl. A dog growled and backed away.
Fengyu strolled ahead, arms loose at his sides, gaze taking in everything. Lao Zhan walked at his right, Huo Yan at his left. Tie Dun followed dragging the captured sentries on a rope.
Behind them, Kaelji and Joy walked as if touring a garden. Master Lira and Mokai closed the group.
They stopped before the chief's hut.
Fengyu looked around, met the stunned gazes of the poachers.
"We'll be staying a while," he said.
The door to the chief's hut creaked open. Karsh stepped out first.
Just as Fengyu remembered him, tall, broad-shouldered, with grey streaks in his beard and a heavy brow that shadowed dark eyes. He looked at the armed strangers standing in the middle of his outpost, at the tied sentries, and didn't reach for a weapon.
Behind him came Mirok - lean, wiry, hunched like a crow perched too long in one place. His fingers twitched near his belt, where a knife was half-visible, but one glance at Lao Zhan and Tie Dun and he stopped.
Karsh surveyed the group in silence. His gaze lingered a moment on Master Lira, then on Kaelji, then finally on Joy, who smiled pleasantly.
No greeting. No outrage. As if this was expected.
"What now?"
"We're not here to kill," Fengyu said. "But the gate's under our control. Your operation's over."
A flicker of something passed over Mirok's face - frustration, maybe, or just a paranoia surfacing. He leaned closer to Karsh. "We should-"
"No," Karsh interrupted, voice flat. "Too late for that."
"You stay put. Your people stay put," Fengyu continued. "No weapons drawn. No crates moved. No messages sent. You want to stay alive, you sit on your hands and wait."
"And if we don't?" Mirok asked, teeth bared in a half-smile.
"You can test your luck."
Karsh exhaled through his nose. "We'll keep quiet."
Around them, the poachers stood frozen - hands half-raised from tasks abandoned, eyes flicking between their chief, the new arrivals, and the mountain behind.
The game had changed.
And no one moved to challenge it.