In an airship soaring through the lonely skies of the sand-ridden Wazar region, Adelaide—dressed in all white—flipped through a dossier while sitting in a private booth.

  “Everyone seems to be enjoying their missions. Master will be pleased.”

  She dropped the thick dossier onto a nearby stand and reached for a cocktail glass filled with a sparkling liquid wreathed in violet flames.

  That reminds me… Tesan hasn’t reported back in a week. He should have already—

  The crystal lying a few inches from the dossier vibrated, releasing a deep, clanking echo. Adelaide took a sip of her drink before reaching for it.

  A sharp crack rang out as the crystal split cleanly in half. A holographic projection of a masked man emerged from the fractured core.

  Adelaide took another sip before glancing at the projection. “Tesan. It’s been a week. What happened?”

  “Forgive my insolence,” he said, bowing. “I encountered unexpected trouble along the way.”

  Her left brow arched slightly as she took another sip. “What sort of trouble?” she asked softly. “For your sake, I hope it isn’t something that compromises the mission.”

  “Rest assured, Miss. I took the necessary precautions to prevent that.”

  Adelaide nodded, setting her glass down. She retrieved the dossier once more. “Since you’re contacting me now, I presume you’re in Dratol?”

  “Affirmative, Miss.”

  “Will you be keeping to the schedule?”

  “U-um… that’s why I’m calling.” Tesan hesitated. “A series of unfortunate events plagued my arrival. I’m afraid the mission will take longer than anticipated.”

  “You’re referring to the incident involving the Labyrinth of the Nameless?”

  “Yes,” the projection nodded. “Dratol tightened its security shortly after. There’s also the matter of a madman who clashed with the Coalition Agents. Fortunately, I slipped in before they sealed our usual route.”

  Adelaide listened without interrupting, occasionally flipping through the dossier or taking a sip from her glass.

  “…As it stands,” Tesan continued, “I won’t be able to begin the mission on time—unless you permit the use of Protocol 99.”

  Adelaide dropped the dossier again, fixing the projection with a sharp gaze. “If granted, how many days would you require?”

  “Three—no, two days.”

  She smiled faintly, remaining silent.

  Adam should be back in Dratol by now, she thought. I wonder how he’s doing. Perhaps I should visit in the coming months…

  “U-um, Miss? May I enact the protocol—?”

  “Rejected,” Adelaide said, leaning back in her seat. “We can’t afford another incident right now.”

  “What should I do, Miss?”

  “I’ll extend the mission’s time limit,” she replied. “Elliot should still be in Dratol. Contact him if you require assistance.”

  “Thank you, Miss.”

  Adelaide tapped one of the fractured crystal halves. It reassembled seamlessly.

  Crossing her legs, she reached for her glass.

  Master won’t be pleased if Tesan fails.

  Should I send additional support?

  Lost in thought, the crystal vibrated again.

  It split apart—but this time, only a silhouette appeared between the halves.

  The man hummed. “I see you’re enjoying yourself.”

  Adelaide straightened instantly. “Master,” she said, a bashful smile forming.

  “How was Dumkun’s hospitality?”

  “Exceptional,” she replied after a brief pause.

  Vicar’s laughter echoed through the private cabin.

  Adelaide set her glass aside and adjusted her posture. “Are you finished with the conference? I’m crossing Wazar Canyon now. I should arrive within a few days.”

  “There’s no need to rush,” Vicar said calmly. “The conference is far from over. Only three gate masters attended the first day. The others should arrive soon enough.

  “By the way—Tesan’s task. What’s its status?”

  “There were unforeseen complications,” Adelaide replied. “So I extended the mission duration.”

  “Cancel it,” Vicar said, overriding her decision. “Death looms over his future. Order him to return immediately.”

  Her lips trembled briefly before she regained composure. “I’ll do as instructed.”

  The silhouette seemed to nod.

  “That reminds me,” Vicar continued. “You’ll need to update Adam’s information. If my guess is correct, you should be receiving a transmission about now.”

  As he spoke, the dossier’s brown cover turned crimson. Adelaide reached for it, flipping through until she reached Adam’s profile.

  This…

  She smiled, exhaling softly.

  “Just as you predicted, Master. He’s reached A-rank… and he’s a Domain user.”

  “It’s still insufficient,” Vicar said indifferently. “For our purposes, he remains too weak. He’s no match for Ash—let alone Treduea or Xander.”

  He paused. “Speaking of which, what is Xander doing?”

  “His last known location was the wastelands south of the Tower of Lust,” Adelaide replied, her expression turning serious. “No reports since.”

  “…There again?” Vicar sighed. “Forget it. That brat had better be stronger before Xander returns. There’s no telling what he’ll do.”

  A pause followed—then Vicar’s voice returned, colder.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Remember, Adelaide. Your task is to ensure they never meet.”

  “I understand, Master.”

  “One more thing,” he added. “I received an interesting report minutes ago. There’s been activity at the High Temple of Gluttony.”

  Adelaide’s eyes narrowed.

  “They wouldn’t surface without reason,” Vicar continued. “Investigate. If a new candidate for the vacant Lordship has emerged, identify them. If they can’t be controlled—gather the others and eliminate them.”

  The silhouette faded. The crystal returned to normal.

  Adelaide exhaled deeply, rearranging her loose hair.

  The stalemate among the Lords will shatter with the rise of a new one.

  Is it coincidence that a candidate appeared now; especially when that damnable flower has resurfaced?

  A knock echoed through the cabin.

  Adelaide reached for the dossier. It twisted and folded, sinking smoothly into her skin. The translucent crystal faded until it vanished completely.

  “Pardon the intrusion, dear guest. Would you spare a few minutes of your time? The conductor wishes to speak with you.”

  The stewardess behind the door knocked again. “Hello? Is anyone in there?”

  She knocked a third time.

  A loud bang rocked the room as the door burst open. Six figures stormed inside, each holding a large cleaver and dressed in bloodstained white overalls. One of them dragged the stewardess in by the hair, scanning the room with narrowed eyes. Apart from an empty cocktail glass, all traces of the previous occupant had vanished.

  “She noticed our presence,” one of them said. “She couldn’t have gone far.”

  Before the stewardess could plead, the speaker swung his cleaver in a single, fluid motion. Her head separated cleanly from her body.

  He hurled the headless corpse toward the window, smashing through the airship’s wall in an instant. The sudden pressure difference tore through the cabin, violently sucking the men—and the mutilated body—out into the open air.

  Moments later, an aerial explosion lit up the skies above the vast canyon as the airship plunged toward the ground.

  “Adam, how long are you going to sulk like this?” The demonic voice echoed inside his mind. “Don’t tell me you actually believe the nonsense that brat spouted?”

  Thirty minutes had passed since Alexandra left for her test, yet Adam hadn’t formed a single loud thought. Instead, he quietly observed the other students. Most chatted while stuffing themselves. Some meditated in the corners. Others remained seated, occasionally glancing toward the exit.

  “You know what we are, Adam. Whatever she said, felt, or saw changes nothing. We exist because of resentment and wrath! Who does she think she is, lecturing us on how to live?”

  The voice sharpened.

  “Don’t ignore me! We can’t allow a threat like her to live. We must devour her before she says something unnecessary again!”

  Adam stood and stretched, drawing a few curious glances. They quickly lost interest when he approached the large table at the center of the room. He grabbed a disposable plate and filled it with generous portions of whatever caught his eye.

  “Adam! Don’t ignore me! Do you have any idea how serious this is?!”

  He returned to his seat and devoured the food in seconds. When he was done, he tossed the plate aside and closed his eyes again.

  “You think silence changes anything?” the voice sneered. “Your childish defiance will be the death of you. I can’t wait until everything blows up in your face. Let’s see if you can still act so nonchalant then.”

  A dry smile tugged at Adam’s lips after a brief silence.

  How long are we going to stay here? I’m already bored out of my mind.

  He understood why examinees weren’t allowed to leave after their tests—but he didn’t agree with it. He’d much rather return to his dorm than spend the entire day surrounded by people who openly despised his existence.

  I wonder what the S-rank test entails, he mused. Judging by how long the others took—and how long Alexandra’s taking—it must be brutal.

  Is that why the report warned me not to attempt it… or is there another reason?

  Adam recalled the moment the Aviskin instructors asked whether he intended to take the next test. There had been something in their eyes then—suspicion. It vanished the instant he claimed he lacked the energy for another attempt.

  “Fuck! How long is this going to take?” a voice snapped. “Shouldn’t it be possible for everyone to test at the same time?”

  All eyes turned to a young man who had been meditating earlier. He paced beside his chair, muttering curses under his breath.

  No one disagreed. Varidan was more than capable of conducting large-scale tests. The school simply chose not to. As for why—no one could say.

  A creak echoed through the room.

  Heads snapped toward the exit. Several students sighed in relief as the doors opened—only for confusion to follow. The instructor stood alone.

  “Huh?” Casimiro frowned. “Where’s Alexandra?”

  Before the instructor could respond, a smooth female voice filled the room.

  “Attention. The reappraisal will be temporarily suspended due to an emergency meeting with the deans. All students ranked A and above are to return to the Grand Auditorium immediately.”

  Several portals opened before anyone had time to react.

  The instructor gestured toward the swirling lights. “These portals will take you directly to the venue. The rescheduled date will be announced later. Those who have already completed their tests need not return.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “That is all. You may leave.”

  Grumbles of frustration rippled through the room as students stood. Weeks of preparation had been rendered meaningless by a sudden summons. One by one, they departed—until only Adam, Casimiro, and the instructor remained.

  Casimiro waited until the room was empty. “What happened to Alexandra? Why didn’t she come back?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” the instructor replied evenly. “Please understand.”

  Casimiro clenched his fists, then shot Adam a sharp look. Moments later, he stepped through a portal and vanished.

  Once they were alone, Adam rose and fixed the instructor with a steady gaze. “You wanted to see me. What do you want?”

  The instructor had contacted him telepathically the moment he entered the waiting area.

  Adam crossed his arms and leaned against the chair.

  The instructor withdrew a sealed file from his trench coat and tossed it over. “Your next mission has been decided,” he muttered. “Prepare yourself. Our expectations are high.”

  Adam caught the file, eyes widening. By the time he looked up, the instructor was already gone.

  He’s one of Vicar’s people…

  Adam stared at the exit for a moment before stepping through a portal.

  The world shifted.

  A dimly lit hall came into view. Hundreds of portals bloomed open as students poured into the auditorium. At the far end, several figures sat upon the dais—each radiating a distinct, menacing aura.

  Adam’s gaze swept across the dais, taking in each figure with quiet scrutiny. So, these are the deans.

  Even from this distance, their presence pressed against his chest, a weight he hadn’t felt since Targarth. His fingers flexed slightly on the armrest. How strong are they, really?

  “Take a seat,” Dean Hensley’s voice cut through the murmurs, firm and unyielding. Students hurried into the empty chairs while portals flickered open around the hall, disgorging more of their peers. Within moments, over a hundred students filled the auditorium, the last portal snapping shut behind the final arrivals.

  Hensley’s eyes swept the room, then she gestured to an instructor stationed below the dais. The man rolled his hands over a silver ore, the hall dimming in tandem with his movements. Above the dais, a holographic map of Outworld shimmered into existence, sprawling across the ceiling.

  “I don’t plan on wasting your time,” Hensley said, her gaze piercing each student in turn. “By now, most of you have likely heard whispers of a miracle flower—capable of making anyone an Awakened.”

  The hall erupted in whispers and stifled chatter.

  “Silence!” Hensley’s voice boomed, slicing through the noise like a blade. Her finger stabbed at the glowing map, and the murmurings died instantly.

  “It’s unclear where these rumors began, but over the last six months, the eastern nations have been gripped by them,” she continued, eyes still sweeping the room. “In the past three months, dungeon activity has spiked, all in search of this miraculous flower they call Edril’s Elixir.”

  Adam leaned back in his chair, the memory of Ads’ casual remarks at the docks flickering in his mind. So it’s real, after all.

  Hensley’s finger hovered over one of several glowing pink icons scattered across the map’s eastern lands. “We convened this meeting because we’ve confirmed its existence. And we suspect it resides in one of these locations.”

  Gasps rippled through the auditorium. Students craned forward in their seats, excitement sparking in their eyes, though a few furrowed brows betrayed doubt.

  Adam shifted subtly, measuring the reactions around him. Most were eager, some skeptical, a handful outright dismissive. He didn’t feel their excitement. None of it mattered to him.

  “Many of you belong to guilds across the lands,” Hensley said, scanning the room once more. “And I know you’re imagining the advantages it could potentially grant an Awakened. But take note: this isn’t Varidan-exclusive intelligence. Guilds from every eastern nation are mobilizing for Edril’s Elixir as we speak.”

  She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in before continuing.

  “This brings me to the heart of this emergency meeting. From now, all students ranked A and above, unaffiliated with any guild, will be assigned continuous search-and-retrieve missions.”

  Eyes darted across the room.

  “Anyone who successfully retrieves Edril’s Elixir will earn early graduation, a portion of the flower for research, and a position within Varidan Towers.”

  Excitement bloomed like wildfire. Adam’s eyes drifted to the nearest students; some fists clenched in anticipation, others exchanged eager whispers. He watched, expression neutral. He didn’t care about the flower, the research, or the position.

  “All A-rank students may depart.”

  The lights brightened, and the map dissolved into pixels. Portals appeared beneath each A-rank seat, whisking the students away before anyone could protest. Adam disappeared too, eyes narrowing at the empty spaces, knowing the S-rank briefing awaited.