Part 1: The Song of the Wind
The five massive shadows dove from the thunderhead, their wings tucking in for a steep, predatory descent.
"Stations!" Roger barked, sliding the bolt of his rifle.
"Hold fire," Elian commanded, his voice calm despite the adrenaline spiking in his veins. He didn't draw Winter's Eclipse. Instead, he looked at the Bard perched on the upper deck. "Lyra, now."
Lyra took a deep breath. Her fingers trembled slightly, but when they touched the strings of her lute, the fear vanished.
She didn't play a battle anthem. She played a melody she had been composing for ten days—a soft, oscillating tune that mimicked the sound of wind rushing through hollow bones. It was the Song of Greeting.
The music drifted up into the sky, carried by her mana.
The dive-bombing shadows hesitated. They flared their four-winged bodies, slowing their descent rapidly. The aggression drained from their posture. Instead of breathing fire or lightning, the beasts circled the Obsidian Leviathan, tilting their heads as if listening to an old friend.
One by one, they landed on the spacious main deck. The ship groaned under the sudden weight of five tons of muscle and scale.
The Wind-Drakes were sleek, reptilian creatures with azure scales and bioluminescent markings pulsing along their necks. Their riders—tall, slender humanoids with pale blue skin, tribal tattoos, and long, braided hair—did not raise their crystal spears. They simply watched.
Part 2: The Assessment
The Eclipse crew stood their ground, weapons sheathed but hands ready.
The Squadron Leader, a Sky-Kin with a jagged white scar running down his cheek and intricate bone totems woven into his hair, slid down from his mount. He stood a full head taller than Titan.
He walked toward Elian, his movements fluid and silent, like a cat stalking.
He didn't speak. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
He smelled the air. He smelled the frost on the deck.
And most importantly, he sensed the mana radiating from Elian's back—specifically from the wrapped hilt of Winter's Eclipse.
The Leader's eyes snapped open. They were solid yellow, with no pupils. He looked at Elian, then at the distant, silent peak of the Glacial Spire.
He uttered a series of clicking, whistling sounds.
Ck-tk-suu... Graa-thum... Vor'takh.
[System: Auto-Translation Active]
[Language: High-Aerial Dialect]
The sounds warped in the players' ears, becoming intelligible words.
"The Cold Heart... has stopped beating," the Leader said, his voice sounding like gravel grinding together. "The mountain is silent. You... you carry the scent of his death."
Part 3: The Pact of the Skies
Elian stepped forward. "We silenced it. I am Elian, Captain of Eclipse."
The Leader placed a fist over his chest and bowed slightly—a tribal warrior's greeting.
"I am Vor'takh, Wind-Walker of the Third Wing. We came because the storms around the Spire vanished. We feared the worst."
"Feared?" Caelum asked, floating forward. "Was the Winter King not your enemy?"
Vor'takh nodded gravely. "He was our nemesis. But you must understand... this floor is held in balance by four pillars."
He held up four long fingers.
"The Glacial Spire held Glacius, the Winter King.
The Thunder Peaks holds Volcanis, the Storm King.
The Rotting Jungle holds Venoma, the Plague Queen.
And The Aerie... our home... is ruled by Sky-Father Zephyr, the Wind King."
The crew exchanged glances. This was the "New Content" Elian had suspected. The four resource islands Caelum had identified on the map weren't just resource nodes; they were the domains of four Field Bosses.
"We have a Pact of Blood," Vor'takh explained.
"We do not touch each other's lands, for war between Kings would destroy the sky. But Glacius... he was ambitious. He was the strongest, second only to our Sky-Father. We feared he was gathering strength to break the Pact and freeze the world."
Vor'takh looked at Elian with a mixture of awe and relief.
"By killing him, you have removed a dagger from our throat. The Sky-Kin owe you a debt."
Part 4: The Invitation
Vor'takh turned to his mount, retrieving a small token made of hollow bone carved with spiraling wind patterns. He offered it to Elian.
"Outsiders usually bring war," Vor'takh said.
"But you bring silence to our enemies. Our King, Sky-Father Zephyr, would wish to see the ones who felled the Winter Giant. We invite you to The Aerie. Our home."
[System Quest: Audience with the Wind King]
[Difficulty: Unknown]
[Reward: Alliance with Sky-Kin Faction]
It was a massive opportunity. An alliance meant safe passage through the skies, access to their resources, and maybe... just maybe... the secret to taming those Wind-Drakes.
Elian took the token, but he didn't accept immediately.
He looked back at his team. They were exhausted. They had just survived a 10-day ordeal. They weren't ready to walk into another King's lair without a plan.
"We are honored," Elian said carefully. "But my crew is weary from the battle. We need to discuss this amongst ourselves before we approach your King."
Vor'takh nodded, understanding. "Wisdom is knowing when to rest. Take your time, Slayer of Winter."
Part 5: Tea with Dragons
The wind on the deck picked up, biting and cold. The Sky-Kin riders shivered slightly; their armor was light leather, designed for speed and agility, not for the freezing temperatures of the Glacial Spire's orbit.
Elian noticed this. He smiled warmly.
"We need time to talk," Elian said. "But there is no reason to stand in the cold while we do it. Our ship is warm, and we have food. Would you and your wing join us inside?"
Vor'takh blinked, his yellow eyes widening in surprise. He looked at the ship, then at the small, fragile-looking humans.
"You... invite us into your vessel? We are strangers."
"You are guests," Elian corrected. "And you didn't attack us when you could have. That makes us friends for now."
Vor'takh hesitated, then looked at his shivering squad. A rare smile touched his alien features.
"We accept your warmth, Elian of Eclipse."
Ten minutes later, the scene inside the Obsidian Leviathan's mess hall was surreal.
Five towering, blue-skinned dragon riders sat awkwardly on the wooden benches, their knees bumping against the table.
Roger was pouring hot tea into mugs for them.
Kael (the dwarf) was inspecting their crystal spears with intense professional curiosity, muttering about the craftsmanship, while Vor'takh watched him with amusement.
The twins, Noya and Naya, were fearlessly petting the snout of a massive Wind-Drake that had stuck its head through the open cargo bay door, purring like a giant cat.
Elian sat at the head of the table, sipping his tea, watching the two species break bread.
The Walkthrough is gone, Elian thought, watching Lyra try to teach a Sky-Kin warrior how to use a fork. But I think I like this new story better.
"So," Elian whispered to Caelum. "Four Kings. One down. Three to go."
Caelum nodded. "And if we align with the Wind King... we control the sky."