Part 1: The Rough Transit
The Glacial Spire was secure. Elian turned to the team staying behind—Titan, the twins, Seraphina, Lyra, and Roger.
"Hold the fort," Elian commanded. "Guard the crystal mines. We'll be back with the rest of our infrastructure."
He signaled Luna, Caelum, Valen, Isara, and Jax. They stood before the violet swirling waypoint Luna had established.
"The connection is stable," Luna said, adjusting her glasses, though she looked nervous. "But the receiver on the Sapphire Crag end isn't upgraded with the Boss Crystals yet. It's going to be... turbulent."
"You go first," Elian nodded. "Stabilize it from the other side. We'll follow."
Luna took a deep breath and stepped through.
Thirty minutes passed.
Finally, a message pinged on Elian's system.
[Luna: It's... hurk... ready. Come through.]
Elian stepped into the portal. The world twisted, stretched, and snapped.
They reappeared on the tropical sands of the Sapphire Crag. The heat hit them instantly, a stark contrast to the freezing spire.
Luna was on her hands and knees by a palm tree, pale as a sheet, wiping her mouth. She looked like she had just spun in a centrifuge for an hour.
"I need..." Luna wheezed, holding up a thumbs up. "Five minutes. Just let the world stop spinning."
Elian nodded, looking at the familiar wooden fortress. "Take your time. Caelum, Valen, Jax—start packing. But don't strip it bare. Leave the basic furniture and the non-essential supplies. This is still our secondary base."
He looked toward the stream where a massive, moss-covered rock lay sleeping—the Dragon Turtle.
"And we need to keep our Guardian fed. We aren't abandoning this place; we're just expanding."
Part 2: The Water Lily (Stranger's POV)
A mile away, gliding effortlessly upstream against the current, a woman traveled in style.
She didn't walk. She floated inside a translucent, shimmering sphere of water that hovered a foot above the river.
She wore a dress of deep, flowing azure silk that rippled like the ocean, adorned with pearls that glowed with mana. She held a staff made of white coral.
Sylvia Rain looked at the wooden structure in the distance and wrinkled her nose.
"That is their headquarters?" she muttered to herself, her voice dripping with disappointment. "It looks like a beaver dam. Shabby. Ugly. How did a group living in a pile of drift-wood defeat a Floor Boss?"
She floated closer, convinced there must be a mystery hiding beneath the ugly shell.
As she passed a massive mossy rock in the river, she ignored it, mistaking the slumbering Dragon Turtle for a small island. "Even the landscaping is unkempt."
She reached the clearing.
She saw the people moving crates.
"Average," she critiqued, eyeing Valen's dented armor.
"Thug," she dismissed Jax.
"Child," she scoffed at Luna.
Then, her eyes landed on Caelum.
The High Elf was lifting a heavy crate with one hand, his long silver hair tied back, his blindfold adding an air of tragic mystery to his sharp, ethereal features.
Sylvia's heart skipped a beat. Her water bubble wobbled.
Heat rushed to her cheeks.
Oh my... she thought, fanning herself with her hand. Who is that? Is he a prince held hostage by these barbarians? Those ears... that jawline... Is this love?
She looked back at the others and clicked her tongue. "He is a swan among ducks. He doesn't belong with this rabble."
Determined to save the handsome elf (and get her story), she accelerated her bubble, rising up the bank dramatically.
Part 3: The Interruption
"Stranger incoming!" Luna shouted, squinting through her fogged glasses. "Fast pace! Six o'clock!"
Caelum didn't turn his head. He expanded his mana sense instantly.
"Non-threatening," Caelum reported calmly. "Mana signature is fluid, likely Hydro-class. No killing intent detected. Just... curiosity."
Elian sighed, putting down a box of potions.
"Hold the transport. Let's see what they want."
The water bubble burst as it hit the sand, depositing the woman gently on her feet. She landed with a flourish, her blue dress settling perfectly around her. She looked like a water goddess descending to grace mortals with her presence.
She walked toward the entrance, chin high.
Valen stepped in her path, his massive frame blocking the gate.
"Halt," Valen rumbled, his hand on his sword hilt. "State your business."
Sylvia flipped her hair, looking past Valen to try and catch Caelum's eye.
"I am Sylvia Rain," she announced, her voice projecting with practiced elegance. "Class: Hydro-Weaver. I have come to document the anomaly of this region. I intend to interview you about your past conquests."
She didn't mention a guild. She spoke as if her name alone was a pass.
Elian walked up, wiping dust from his hands. He looked tired. He had a million things to do.
"Interview?" Elian asked, unimpressed.
"Yes," Sylvia said, inspecting her fingernails. "I assume you are the logistics manager? You can fetch your lea—"
"We don't have time for this," Elian cut her off mid-sentence, turning his back. "Scram."
Part 4: The Reality Check
Sylvia froze. Her face turned a shade of red that clashed with her dress.
"Excuse me?" she shrieked. "Did you just tell me to scram? Do you have any idea who—"
Schwing.
She never finished the sentence.
A chill, sharper than any ice magic, pressed against her throat.
From her blind spot, Jax had materialized. His dagger was resting gently against her jugular vein.
On her other side, Isara had emerged from Valen's shadow, her blade pressed against Sylvia's kidney.
"You're lucky," Isara whispered, her voice cold and devoid of humanity. "The Captain only said 'scram'. If he said 'kill', you'd be dead before you hit the floor."
Sylvia's mana barrier hadn't even triggered. She hadn't seen them move. The realization hit her like a truck: These aren't barbarians. They are killers.
"Stop!" Elian shouted, not looking back.
Jax and Isara vanished as quickly as they appeared, sheathing their weapons and stepping back.
Sylvia's legs gave out. She slumped onto the sand, shaking uncontrollably, her elegant dress stained with dirt.
Part 5: The Prince and the Boss
A hand appeared in her vision. A pale, elegant hand.
"My apologies, Lady Rain," a velvet voice said.
Sylvia looked up. It was him. The elf.
Caelum smiled—a polite, professional smile that nonetheless made Sylvia's heart restart. He helped her to her feet, dusting off her shoulder with telekinesis.
"We are currently in the middle of a relocation," Caelum said softly. "Our nerves are frayed. We meant no harm."
He turned his head toward Elian.
"Sir," Caelum called out. "Why don't we let her sit in the shade while we finish? We cannot let a dignified lady stand in the sun. Perhaps you can speak calmly once the work is done."
Sylvia's eyes widened.
Sir?
She looked at the handsome elf, then at the "logistics manager" she had dismissed.
The elf—this powerful, beautiful creature—was deferring to the boy in the dusty clothes.
She felt a crushing pressure radiating from Elian now that she focused on him. It wasn't mana; it was authority.
He's the leader, she realized with horror. And I just insulted him.
She quickly straightened her dress, dropping her arrogance instantly.
"I... I apologize," Sylvia bowed deeply to Elian. "I spoke out of turn. If... if you would permit me to observe, I would be grateful."
Elian looked at her, then at Caelum, then shrugged.
"Fine. But stay out of the way."
He pointed at Isara.
"Keep an eye on her."
Isara nodded, stepping next to Sylvia. The assassin didn't smile. She just stared.
Sylvia sat on a log in the corner, clutching her coral staff. She watched the team work, her mind racing with questions, stealing glances at Caelum, and terrified to make a sound while the shadow-woman loomed over her.