The sky was hemorrhaging brilliant shades of violet and crimson as the sun dipped behind the jagged peaks of the Arorikund Valley. It was a beautiful, bleeding sunset, the kind that made the world feel momentarily at peace despite the horrors lurking in the brush. The rhythmic melody of running water from the nearby lake provided a soundtrack to their labor.
June didn't wait for the light to fail. Experience had taught her that the valley punished the unprepared. She moved with practiced efficiency, clearing away the thick, thorny bushes to create a fire break. Her sword short bit into the nearby trees with steady thuds, the scent of fresh pine filling the air.
She didn't just throw a bedroll on the ground; she began constructing a sturdy wooden platform high in the crook of two ancient oaks, lashing the timber together with expert knots.
While she worked, Blop waded into the shallows of the lake. He moved differently now—sharper. Using his newly adapted reflexes, he watched the silver glints beneath the surface. With a strike so fast it barely rippled the water, he snatched three large, struggling fish from the depths. He brought them back to the camp, laying them on a clean stone before disappearing back into the treeline.
Deep in the foliage, he stumbled upon a cluster of hanging vines bearing fruit he hadn't seen before. They were a deep, bruised purple, glowing faintly in the twilight.
He plucked one and bit into it; it was a strange tug-of-war between cloying sweetness and a sharp, electric sourness. He gathered a handful and returned to the clearing.
By the time he arrived, the campfire was roaring, its orange light dancing against the newly finished platform. They sat in a rare, comfortable silence, the only sound being the sizzle of the fish June had skewered over the flames. June reached for one of the purple fruits Blop had brought.
"Let's see what you found, Blop," she muttered, taking a large bite.
The effect was almost instantaneous. After just one fruit, June's eyes glazed over. The world began to tilt. "Whoa," she giggled, her voice sounding far away. "Blop... the trees are... they're dancing."
She was high—the fruit was packed with a potent, natural neurotoxin that didn't affect Blop's mutated biology but hit June like a tidal wave.
She checked the fish with uncoordinated hands, handing one to a confused Blop.
She grabbed one more fruit, mumbled something about "the moon looking like a giant berry," and hauled herself up to the platform where she crashed into a deep, drug-induced sleep instantly.
Blop stayed by the fire, eating the roasted fish. It was so delicious he found himself chewing on the wooden skewer just to catch the last of the juices. Satisfied, he climbed up beside her, the warmth of the meal and the safety of the height pulling him into a heavy slumber.
The morning sun was a cold slap to the face. Blop woke first, feeling incredibly refreshed. He climbed down and splashed his face with the icy lake water, the chill jumpstarting his senses. A groan from the platform told him June was finally awake.
She climbed down, squinting at the light and holding her head. "Blop... what kind of poison did you bring me yesterday? My brain feels like it's being poked with hot needles."
Blop just tilted his head, offering no explanation.
"That fruit," she groaned, washing her face beside him. "It had toxins. Not enough to kill a horse, but enough to turn my head into a bell. I don't even know why I ate the second one." She shook her head, trying to clear the fog.
"Pack up. No more berries. We're getting real food today."
They shouldered their sacks and began the final walk. The morning air was quiet, the peace of the valley acting as a final goodbye before they reached the massive, iron-studded gates of Narier City.
Meanwhile, in the Heart of the Arorien Kingdom...
In the capital, the atmosphere was far from peaceful. Two men walked through the sprawling, silent corridors of the military wing.
The floors were polished marble, and the walls were draped in heavy red velvet curtains that swallowed the sound of their boots. They stopped before a massive oak door and knocked.
"Come," a voice commanded—calm, cool, and terrifyingly precise.
They entered a room lined with thousands of leather-bound books. Two tall windows looked out over the city, but the red curtains were drawn tight. Behind a desk sat a man in a flowing red robe and crisp white pants. He didn't look up immediately.
"Sit," said General Idom. His voice was like a silk cord. "Now, give me a reason not to cut your paychecks for interrupting my morning. This better be special."
The man in the lead, wearing a suit of leather reinforced with iron plates, cleared his throat.
"Sir, we've detected unusual activity in the Arorikund Valley. We sent a scout party to the interior. They didn't find the target, but they found something else: Silver Hawk badges scattered in the mud. And... a discarded slave iron mask."
Idom's eyes finally snapped up. The calm expression didn't change, but the air in the room grew cold. "Silver Hawk badges? And a slave mask? No bodies?"
"None, sir," the man, Lijom, replied. "Finding the mask suggests they were transporting a slave, but the lack of bodies and the abandoned badges means someone—or something—intervened. The Silver Hawks aren't the type to just drop their emblems and leave."
"Interesting," Idom whispered, leaning back. "A slave freed, and a high-ranking mercenary group vanished without a trace."
"Sir," Lijom continued, "we should start a full investigation. If we move now—"
"No," Idom cut him off. "A full investigation requires the King's seal, and I won't alert the royal court to a potential embarrassment just yet. But... I cannot have rogue elements wandering our borders."
He looked at Lijom and the silent man beside him, Nyadar. "I want you two to handle this quietly. Take two C+ rank adventurers with you. Investigate without alerting the Royal Guards. If there is a 'hero' out there helping slaves, I want to know who they are."
"You can count on us, sir," Lijom said, bowing.
As they walked back through the long
corridors, Lijom turned to Nyadar. "You stayed quiet in there. What are you thinking?"
Nyadar, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke. His voice was deep and raspy.
"I'm thinking that whoever killed the Silver Hawks and freed that slave is either very lucky or very dangerous. And if they're coming out of the Arorikund Valley, there's only one place they can go to disappear."
"Narier City," Lijom finished the thought.
"Exactly," Nyadar said, his eyes narrowing.
"We head to Narier. We talk to the Baron, and we check every new arrival. If a slave and their 'savior' are in that town, I'll find them. And when I do, they'll wish they stayed in the valley."
The two adventurers walked out into the bright light of the capital, a hunt beginning that Blop and June didn't even know was coming. At the gates of Narier, the "Glitch" and the Scout stood at the threshold of a new world, unaware that the shadow of the Kingdom was already stretching out to find them.