The ships of the Blue Sea Guild docked in silence…
They glided into the harbor like specters, cutting across the water with a momentum that felt unnervingly inadequate for a vessel that size. There was no clash of metal against stone, no shouting, no commands, no hurried footsteps. Instead, the sea seemed to yield, parting smoothly around the hull as though guided by an unseen hand.
As the ships slowly settled into place, the mist was pushed forward…
A pale tide rolled outwards from beneath the ship, spilling across the pier in slow, curling waves.
It flowed around the boots of the spectators, drowning small crates and clinging to the edge of the dock, before gradually retreating, like a quiet breath being drawn back into the sea.
The harbor remained silent.
The scent that followed was unmistakable, the mix of salt, the deep-sea, and something older, almost heavier, like a tide formed from spiritual energy that lacked the stability of the earth element and carried a tremendous momentum!
The gangplanks slowly lowered—
Then the crew of the Blue Sea Guild disembarked.
They stepped down onto the docks one ship at a time, clad in layered blue and black attire. Their clothing was a mix of robes and 'mortal' clothes, with thick fabrics and trimmed cuffs embossed with subtle golden runes that caught the morning light.
There was no strict order as they moved unorderly, laughing with each other and trading comments about the harbor, the weather, and the heavy smell of the 'earth' of the cross continent! They looked less like a crew and more like old friends returning from a long voyage!
Hundreds of dockworkers watched from the side…
-
Once the majority of the crew descended, the figures that finally mattered began to appear.
First and foremost, an elderly man stepped onto the pier, his back straight despite his old age. White hair framed his rough face, and his thick, wave-shaped eyebrows gave his sharp eyes a perpetually turbulent look, locking him in a thoughtful expression.
He carried no weapon, only a carved staff engraved with flowing runes that rippled faintly with an oceanic light. This artifact was undoubtedly a high-level staff!
This was Elder Waveraband, or Elder Wave, 'Vice Guild Leader' of the Blue Sea Guild, a prominent figure standing at the peak of the fifth order of the mage pathway, one step away from becoming an Arcanist!
To his side were two others—
One was a young man, clearly a young student, with wavy dark blue hair tied loosely behind his neck in a low ponytail. His appearance was scruffy, yet his eyes seemed to catalog everything with an unseen intensity, betraying a strict and disciplined nature beneath his unreliable surface.
The other was a frail, sickly middle-aged man wrapped in heavy clothes. His skin was pale, his breathing was shallow, but the lingering mist parted unnaturally around his feet, refusing to touch his body, almost as if he were constantly surrounded by an unseen breeze. His eyes poked out from behind a series of cloth bandages, concealing his appearance.
They paused near the edge of the pier, and waiting there was already another group—
They were an 'advance team' that had arrived several days earlier.
Standing beside the empire's welcoming party, they appeared almost too casual, even to the point of not fitting in at all! Without hesitation, they pushed through the crowd and made their way towards Elder Wave, openly ignoring the looks of dissatisfaction given to them by the dock workers.
A brief exchange followed…
"I have bad news," one of them quietly reported to Elder Waveraband…
He didn't turn, instead, he just asked in a low voice, "…What is it?"
"We've failed the mission, Vice Guild Leader. The White Whistles on the Cross Continent," the man continued, only hesitating slightly. "They seem to have offended a 'powerful' person, and—"
There was a pause.
"—We couldn't find them, not even one," he finally said.
"…From our initial investigation, most of them are already dead, and those that aren't should be either in hiding or already captured. This purge happened a few years ago, and was very thorough. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do…"
Waveraband's fingers tightened around his staff, then relaxed.
He snorted. "What a fool! Something like this had happened on the Cellistan Continent before as well!" He muttered under his breath. "It just creates a group of 'madmen' that will hold a 'grudge'. It's impossible to eradicate them completely, we already know this. Tsk! How annoying! What kind of little brat got too big for her britches?"
Then, he turned—
Someone was approaching…
* * *
Verdelith Castle, Combat Hall—
Boom!
Dust flew through the air as a wave of pressure flooded out!
Petra sat sideways on a stone ledge, legs freely dangling down. Her elbows stretched behind her as she leaned, enjoying the 'view'.
Swoosh! Booom—!
The afternoon sun was warm and kind, producing the perfect place for a sunny summer setting to sit and stay. In the distance, beyond the border of the territory, and past the city skyline, the horizon was dark with an approaching storm. A light breeze drifted through the farmlands, carrying the faintest smell of stone dust, refined wood, and freshly cut fruits.
Petra's stomach growled in response.
Somewhere below, 'distant' voices echoed, seemingly the remnants of the ongoing festival that somehow managed to reach all the way up here! They were muffled and indistinct, but still blended into the background as if they were there themselves.
Behind Petta rose one of the three newest additions to the Verdelith Castle—
- The Combat Hall!
This was a massive structure, wide rather than tall, with three floors stacked in thick, reinforced layers!
The building had next to no decorations, and every wall, pillar, and beam existed for a purpose, making the hall almost appear as if it were a massive artifact. 'Thick' rune channels were carved directly into the stone, not yet filled, but definitely present! These weren't decorative runes, no, they were structural ones, special runes from the dwarven system that were designed with the intent to reinforce the building! It was a masterpiece formed from high-level craftsmanship and magical engineering.
Petra's lips curled into a lazy smile.
The dwarven sisters had really gone all out! The Combat Hall had been finished for over a year, but it had taken an additional year to engrave all the runes and 'proper systems'. This seemed to be some kind of 'practical exam' designed for the two dwarven sisters by Elli.
In the end, like the 'Testing Hall' and 'Punishment Hall' it was well worth the effort!
-
The first floor was the main arena, an open stadium that was slightly sunken into the ground. Wide wooden seating surrounded the pit in a full circle, layered so that every angle had a clear view. The arena floor was segmented into hundreds of hexagonal tiles, each section able to shift independently. The Spirit Stone (supreme-grade) tiles could rise, sink, split, expand, and rotate, allowing them to not only modify the terrain mid-fight, but also add 'Mystic and Mental Modifiers' to each individual tile.
The second floor had auxiliary platforms and control arrays. From there, barriers could be activated, gravity could be adjusted, and 'elemental environments' could be introduced.
Petra had already seen the fire zone, pressure field, and a simulated weather array that was 'tested' with an alarming enthusiasm on Rose…
The third floor was the most absurd, with 'Petra style luxury observation decks', private rooms, special 'training chambers', wink-wink-nudge-nudge, and a central core that held an emergency suppression system, all layered together into a hollow ring near the ceiling. If something went wrong, the entire building could seal itself, isolate the problem, and immediately expel all the excess spiritual energy 'safely' through the surrounding rune network!
Petra rested her chin in her palm and looked down at the arena from the third floor.
She faced the center of the hall, and on her back, a massive window opened up and unfolded to reveal an unobstructed view of the horizon.
It was beautiful!
Petra sighed contentedly.
Life was good!
Then—
BOOOOM! The ground shook violently!
A deafening explosion tore through the arena as a frost-filled shockwave blasted upwards, rattling the seating and sending a plume of frigid mist into the air!
-
The 'battle' had already begun.
Soryn whipped her arm around, followed by a flood of elemental energy.
Frost raced across the arena floor, forming geometric lines and spreading outwards in a thin wave of white haze. The temperature sharply dropped as shards of ice screamed through the air, orbiting the attack, and forced Rose—the opposition—to violently twist aside!
Pooosh! From the haze—
An ice spike tore past her shoulder, her red hair fluttering in the wind.
Poosh-poosh-poosh! Swoosh! Another series of ice spears slammed past and blasted into the wall behind her, detonating into plumes of frozen mist.
Soryn stood near the center of the arena, standing straight, with her sword lowered in front of her.
She was breathing slowly, with only the faintest signs of sweat rolling down her forehead. She was calm, too calm, displaying a type of 'focus' that many high-level adventurers possess.
The air around her shimmered with a pale blue light, as condensed Ice-element elemental energy gathered and released in bursts.
She let out a slow breath, exhaling a thin stream of frost that transformed into a dissipating mist.
Her eyes followed Rose as she shot around the rim of the arena!
She was surrounded by a small snowstorm that was spiraling like an aura. Upon closer inspection, this small snowstorm wasn't only a passive attack, no! This 'snowstorm' was actively disturbing the nearby spiritual energy! It was a lesser form of the 'anti-magic field' that the old man had used on Petra!
Soryn was a cultivator, a golden core cultivator, but it was still possible to perform this technique with the right conditions, at least for a short period of time!
To most people, this was insane to even try, but to Petra and her people, it was only natural!
She raised her free hand and shifted her sword behind her body. Buzz! A circle of runes quickly formed in the air around each of her fingers. The spell circle dispersed, 'drained' of the embedded spiritual energy, then the air clicked, producing dozens of ice lances that all launched at once.
Swoosh! Swoosh-swoosh-swoosh-swoosh-swoosh-swoosh! Then—
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom! They weren't wild or scattered, each lance was angled to cut off an option, 'guiding' Rose exactly where she wanted!
Swoosh! The red maid shot through the air, nimbly dodging each attack like a cat!
The arena floor cracked as the lances firmly embedded themselves, freezing the stone.
Rose dropped down and sprinted!
Boom! Woosh! Her jump was followed by a small shockwave!
Like most of the others, Rose had also broken through to the early stage of the Golden Core Realm. Aside from Soryn, who was already in the Golden Core Realm when Petra found her, everyone else had caught up to the 'third order' in their 'respective paths!'
She moved on all fours. Rose wore a tight black leather armor with gauntleted hands that scraped across the ground like claws, carving forward with her immense physical strength! While weaving between the incoming attacks, her armor flared with heat, the rune-formed tiger patterns engraved into the gauntlets glowing with a crimson flame as she forced her body forward!
Swoosh! Bamg—!! A lance clipped her thigh, and—
The ice started to spread instantly!
Rose grimaced.
She snarled and slammed her fist into the frozen patch of skin—boom! Crimson colored spiritual energy surged out and shattered the frost shell in a spray of shards!
She didn't slow down at all!
Swoosh!
Another wave of ice came barreling towards her, but this time, the ice magic expanded outwards instead of forwards. A wide arc of freezing air rolled across the arena like a tidal wave, coating everything it touched in frost!
And it was very fast!
Rose leapt backwards, careful not to touch the white wave.
She twisted mid-air, flipped, and landed heavily on the wall, her armored claws biting deeply into the stone, holding her up. As the wave of frost quickly reached her perch, the surface froze under her grip, forcing her to push off before she could be trapped!
But by then—
Soryn was already moving!
Swoosh! She stepped forward, the distance vanishing in an instant!