Drifter, accompanied by Alma, Caelus, and Luna, journeyed to the northern region of Nethia, their destination the picturesque vilge of Cavelia. The settlement was renowned for its windmills adorned with spinning runes, sprawling ranches dotting the countryside, and breathtaking flower fields stretching toward the horizon in vibrant carpets of color.

  Their mission was straightforward: investigate the frequent malfunctions pguing the vilge’s windmills. As they inspected the damaged structures alongside the vilge technicians, Drifter found himself engaged in casual conversation with Alma about academy life and an arcane network drama she favored—one about a sickly girl learning to love in a society where affection was forbidden for the ill and the weak. The title escaped him, but what caught his attention more was Alma herself. She seemed more cheerful than he had seen her in months. Yet, there was something peculiar about her newfound happiness—he recalled that even in the months following the Grakling accident, he had never once seen Alma and Nadia together as they always had been.

  One night, as they stood guard by a windmill perched on Cavelia Hills, northwest of the vilge, the air suddenly grew heavy with the fluttering of wings. A swarm of Cinderflit—rge moths wreathed in purple fmes descended upon the structure with frightening speed.

  The team moved with practiced precision. From the backline, Alma's Exalt Missiles and Luna's Ice Spears struck down the Cinderflit swarming above. On the frontline, Caelus moved with lightning speed, his Auralis bck spear crackling with purple electricity—a blur as he thrust, charged, and cut down any that dared approach the windmill.

  Drifter supported both lines as needed, wielding spectral swords with effortless control—his right hand sshing with Exaltare, a dark gray sword, while his left conjured Exalt Bolt, blue projectiles that struck enemies from a distance.

  The Cinderflit retaliated, their fming wings scorching the air around them. But Alma, with precise timing, cast Exalt Barrier, shielding the team just as a concentrated burst of fire threatened to engulf them.

  As they decimated the st of the Cinderflit, the team retreated and reported back to the vilge chief, then remained in Cavelia for a few days to ensure no further disturbances.

  During their stay, Luna and Drifter barely exchanged a word. Meanwhile, Caelus, Drifter, and Alma engaged in their usual banter—though Alma, at times, seemed to direct her teasing toward Luna, as if trying to prod at the silence between her and Drifter. He couldn’t make out their conversation, but Luna remained as unreadable as ever.

  After several nights without further attacks, they deemed the mission complete. The windmills returned to their steady rhythm, their runes glowing with renewed strength as they powered the vilge’s many functions.

  Another mission soon took Drifter to Stokirkbay, a bustling coastal town west of Nethia. The settlement, known for its thriving fishing industry, never slept—boats constantly coming and going, den with catches that would feed half the region. This time, his team consisted of Jaxon, Alina, and, once again, Luna—her quiet presence a lingering shadow, a reminder of something he couldn't quite pce.

  Troubling reports had reached the town: increased undead activity along the shore and sea monsters emerging at night, threatening both lives and livelihoods. Their mission was to escort the fishermen during their nighttime expeditions, ensuring their safe passage through waters that had grown treacherous in more ways than one.

  On one particurly grim night, when the moon hid behind clouds thick as wool and the sea churned with unusual fervor, they encountered a sight that chilled even Drifter's hardened soul. A fleet of spectral ships rose from the depths, their tattered sails catching a wind that did not exist. On their decks, undead sailors stirred—hollow-eyed figures, their gaze burning with an ancient hunger.

  "No... they... they are coming!" a terrified fisherman cried.

  The group instantly materialized their weapons and sigils—Drifter's sword, Exaltare, Luna's sigils glowing in her hands, Alina's ice greatsword, Frostshard Legacy, forming from swirling ice particles, and Jaxon's twin bowguns, Emberstorm Crossfires, appearing in a fsh of fmes.

  The spectral undead poured from the ghostly ships in unnerving numbers. Green bolts rained down from ghastly floating creatures, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield.

  On the fishing vessel, Jaxon and Luna held their ground—Luna raised Ice Shields, deflecting the incoming ghostly bolts before retaliating with Ice Bolts and Ice Spears. Beside her, Jaxon unleashed Fiery Projectiles, their combined assault tearing through the approaching phantasmal fleet.

  Meanwhile, Alina and Drifter leapt into the fray, meeting the undead head-on as spectral machetes cshed against their weapons.

  Alina carved through the attackers with ease, her mighty swings too powerful for them to parry. Drifter overwhelmed the rest with a relentless onsught of his Spectral Swords, while cutting down those who got too close with precise sshes of Exaltare and bursts of energy projectiles.

  At long st, the st of the spectral forces fell. The team stood breathing heavily, exhaustion etched on their faces, while the fishermen looked on with expressions of profound relief as they steered the boat back to town.

  Upon their return, they reported to the Grandmaster about the situation. The decision came swiftly—more teams would be deployed, working in shifts, with the next team scheduled to repce them the following morning. With their duties fulfilled for now, they retired to a hotel for much-needed rest.

  As they ate together at the hotel restaurant, silence filled the air between them.

  Jaxon and Alina had noticed the tension too. The way they gnced between Drifter and Luna, the weight in their expressions—it was clear they sensed the unspoken current passing between them.

  When they left the hotel restaurant, Alina and Luna moved back to their respective rooms first. Jaxon fell into step beside Drifter, his tone casual but pointed.

  "Hey, what happened, pal? Did she reject you?" he asked with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

  Drifter responded with a neutral tone, keeping his emotions carefully in check. "It's nothing. Let's not talk about her, okay?," he said simply.

  Jaxon sighed, then gave him a lighthearted wave as if to brush the subject aside.

  That night, back in his quarters, Drifter y awake, his mind a storm of memories and suspicions.

  When sleep finally cimed him, his dreams were restless—filled with visions of purple fmes and ships that sailed not upon the sea, but through the skies. At the helm of each one stood Luna, her gaze locked onto him as he ran across an endless beach that led nowhere.

  He woke with a sigh. Why was he dreaming of this?

  The next morning, they gathered in the lobby before departing for Nethia City and, ter, returning to their respective quarters at the academy. Upon arriving in his room, Drifter gnced at his holographic calendar—it was Voltis, the sixth day, a weekend.

  With a quiet exhale, he sank into his sofa, flipping through the channels on his rge holographic dispy before settling on a comedy show featuring Mot and Reyjr. The momentary peace was abruptly interrupted by the sharp chime of his doorbell.

  He opened the door, and there she was—Luna again. Drifter met her gaze with cold eyes.

  "What?" he asked, his tone ft.

  "There's a situation in Azistile Town. We've lost contact with the investigation team," Luna said, her expression unreadable.

  Drifter recalled what he had read in the arcane network database. Azistile Town—a peaceful settlement farther north in the Verm region, known for its beautiful agricultural fields. It seemed unbelievable that people could go missing from such a tranquil pce.

  The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention as Alina Walsh and Jaxon Virelli joined them in the corridor.

  "Hey, pal—looks like the fearless four are back together again," Jaxon quipped, leaning against the doorframe.

  Drifter set aside his personal feelings. Missing people. Likely dead. The situation was troubling, indeed.

  "Lost contact? What exactly is going on?" His cold gaze remained fixed on Luna.

  "We're not entirely sure yet. Reports of missing residents started coming in, and now the investigation team we sent has disappeared as well," she expined, her voice steady despite the gravity of her words.

  "Come in. Give me a moment," Drifter said, gesturing for them to enter.

  After ushering them into the living room, he ascended the stairs to gather his supplies, methodically filling his pouch with potions until it bulged. When he returned, his companions rose from the sofa, their attention drawn to his preparations.

  Jaxon's eyes locked onto Drifter's belt, now heavy with bottles. "Is this some kind of tradition for every mission now? What's the pn, pal? Thinking of opening a potion shop in Azistile?"

  A thin smile crossed Drifter's face. "Sure. But if you buy, it'll cost you twice as much."

  Jaxon let out a hearty ugh, giving Drifter a friendly pat on the back. "But seriously, pal—can't your belt hold any more?"

  "I didn't expect you to be so obsessed with potions, Drifter," Alina said with a smile.

  Drifter merely shrugged, securing the st vial to his belt.

  "Lucky you're not as much of a perfectionist as some people here," Jaxon added, smirking at Alina.

  She shot him a gre that could have frozen the air between them.

  "Okay, okay. Let's go. We can't waste any time," Jaxon said, rising from the sofa with raised hands in mock surrender.

  From the academy, the morning sun touched Drifter's skin as they boarded the Skyrail, its gray form cutting through the air toward the city's outskirts.

  As they arrive at Translocator, Without hesitation, Luna’s fingers danced across the holographic interface. Ancient symbols bzed to life, and a brilliant blue light enveloped their group.

  Through the Translocator’s fade, Azistile Town materialized before them. Vast grain farms and orchards stretched out, while a river wound through lush greenery, flowing past buildings made of stone and wood, painted in weathered hues. The cobbled streets led to an aged bridge, with a stone sign prociming Azistile Town. Atop a distant hill, an old gray building stood as a sentinel.

  A thick fog draped the silent streets, as if the very life had been drained from the air.

  A wooden sign creaked in the whispering wind: Evergreen Potion Shop. Luna stood before it, her posture rigid as she studied the empty road.

  The group moved toward the cracked bridge, Drifter following with careful steps. Beyond y buildings like dark specters, their windows bck and lifeless.

  Drifter watched as Luna took the lead, her sharp gaze scanning their surroundings. To his left, Alina crouched, her fingers tracing the stone path. Her eyes gleamed as she activated Enchanted Sight.

  "What happened? Nothing? No signs of an attack or any Evocyte traces," she murmured.

  "Spread out. Regroup in fifteen minutes," Luna commanded.

  They dispersed, but all returned empty-handed, drawn back together by the weight of their failure.

  "There. The mansion on the hill. We haven't checked it yet," Luna said.

  Drifter’s attention fixed on the looming structure, its multiple stories barely visible through the thickening murk.

  They ascended through the deepening fog, approaching their final destination.

  Without further words, they pressed forward, navigating through the increasingly dense mist toward the mansion.

  The mansion revealed itself in decay—walls split by cracks, draped in moss that wept down like verdant tears. Its pointed roof cwed at the gray sky, while a massive fountain stood dead, choked by years of neglect.

  The fog writhed unnaturally around the structure, and Jaxon's voice cut through the silence. "Well... here we are. Who's going in first?"

  Luna pushed open the heavy door, releasing a protesting groan. Inside, Evocyte mps cast a feeble golden glow against the biting cold. Their footsteps echoed through empty halls.

  The main hall centered on a dust-covered table surrounded by worn furniture. There, on an ancient sofa, sat a little girl with pointed ears and pink twin-tails bound in ribbons. Her bck and red dress contrasted sharply with unsettling crimson eyes. A wide smile split her face—innocent yet wrong. Two animated skeletons fnked her, their movements deliberate and unnatural.

  Luna halted abruptly.

  Drifter stepped forward, studying the child. "Hi there. What's your name, little one?"

  The girl tilted her head, pink hair swaying without wind. She pointed a small finger. "I'm Vellya! Who are you? Are you here to visit me and my family?" Her cheerful voice carried an otherworldly weight.

  The air grew colder as the skeletons bowed in greeting. Jaxon offered a slight bow in return. "Good afternoon, sir and madam," he said evenly.

  Drifter kept his focus on the child. "Vellya, is this your home?"

  She tilted her head, smile unwavering. "Hmm, no... Vellya doesn't have a home. But that's okay! I'm happy as long as I'm with Papa and Mama!"

  "Uh… Vellya's not really sure, hehe! I just woke up here. So weird, right? One minute I was walking in a meadow and resting under a tree, and then—poof!—I was here, hehe!" Vellya said, holding a finger near her mouth.

  "When did this happen, Vellya? How long have you been here?" Drifter pressed gently.

  "Hmm… I think yesterday morning? Yeah, that sounds right!" she said.

  Luna stepped forward sharply. "When you got here, was the town already like this? Empty and covered in fog?"

  "Yep! It was all foggy and quiet, just like now. Papa and Mama told me to stay here, though."

  "The report came in yesterday afternoon, and the team was dispatched immediately. But everything was already gone by morning? This started earlier than we thought," Luna muttered.

  Silent understanding passed between them. Drifter turned back to Vellya. "Thank you, Vellya. We'll be on our way now."

  "Bye-bye! Come back soon!" she chirped.

  Outside, the fog tightened around them as evening descended. Luna stared at the closed door. "Something's not right with that girl. And those skeletons... she's controlling them. How is she even here alone?"

  "This doesn't make any sense. None of it does," Alina said tersely.

  "She's just a kid, Alina. Whatever's happening, we can't just leave her here," Drifter countered.

  Jaxon squeezed Drifter's shoulder. "I mean, come on, Alina. Kid or not, she's clearly in the middle of something weird, and weird's kind of what we signed up for, isn't it? We look out for people, period."

  Luna sighed heavily. "You two… fine. But we need to be smart about this. No rushing in."

  Inside, they found Vellya awaiting their return. "You're back! Want to py now?" she asked brightly.

  "Not right now, Vellya. Would it be okay if we looked around?" Drifter asked.

  "I'll ask Mama and Papa!" She paused distantly before her smile returned. "They said yes!"

  The group dispersed through the mansion's oppressive corridors. Ancient portraits tracked their movements while shadows danced in corners, bringing bone-deep cold. The wooden floors protested beneath their feet, echoing through the unnatural silence.

  Jaxon found only empty rooms and decay. In the library, Alina pored through dusty books filled with mundane records. Upstairs, Drifter and Luna discovered a photograph in a crumbling bedroom—a silver-haired man and pink-haired woman, both with long ears and red eyes, captured in a moment of joy. Luna documented it with her Lumina Core.

  They regrouped as darkness fell. Vellya sat pying with her skeletal companions, directing their movements without words.

  "Anything?" Luna asked.

  "Nothing. Everything's empty," Alina replied.

  "It's just an old mansion. Nothing interesting here at all," Jaxon shrugged.

  Suddenly, Vellya froze. Her eyes went vacant as the skeletons dissolved into crimson particles. She rose slowly, her voice ft and empty. "They're here."

  Darkness consumed the mansion as every light flickered out. A whisper slithered through the silence, chilling the air. The floorboards creaked. Shadows twisted unnaturally.

  Then, dark figures materialized—bipedal forms of pure bckness with gleaming red eyes. Their elongated arms ended in razor cws that struck with terrifying speed.

  "What's happening?!" Alina said.

  Everyone materialized their own weapons and sigils.

  "They're the same as before..." Drifter murmured, memories of shadowy creatures aboard a doomed sky pirate ship flooding back.

  As the others braced for battle, Drifter’s gaze flickered to the side—Vellya remained motionless on the sofa, her expression vacant. A chill ran through him.

  Why isn’t she reacting…? The thought barely had time to settle before movement in the shadows forced his attention back to the fight.

  The room was already filled with chaos—ice and fire projectiles cshed with darkness, and streaks of blue sshes cut through the air as his companions fought relentlessly.

  Drifter instantly engaged the creatures. Several dark figures lunged at him, their cws shing out in a flurry of dark elemental energy. He weaved through their attacks with effortless precision, barely tilting his head to evade before countering with a swift ssh of Exaltare, cleaving through their chests. Their forms dissolved into nothingness as his spectral swords struck down six more that had attempted to fnk him from behind.

  With a quick pivot, Drifter extended his left hand, casting Exalt Bolt and unleashing a volley of blue projectiles toward the other side of the battlefield. Nearby, Alina and Luna struggled against the relentless shadows—ice covered the ground, their magic coating the floor in jagged frost, yet the creatures moved through it like ghosts, unhindered.

  Alina gritted her teeth, swinging her ice greatsword in desperate arcs as the creatures bypassed her frozen barriers with unnatural ease.

  Before Drifter could assess the situation further, a sudden movement from above caught his attention. Three creatures lunged at him, their cws poised to tear through him. Instinct took over—he raised his left hand, ready to conjure an Exalt Barrier—but before he could react, a barrage of red-hot projectiles tore through the air, obliterating the creatures mid-flight.

  Jaxon glided past, twin bowguns in hand, leaving a trail of fme in his wake.

  Then, a scream.

  Drifter’s head snapped toward the sound—Alina. Jaxon followed his gaze.

  Alina’s ice greatsword cttered to the ground as shadowy tendrils wrapped around her limbs, binding her in pce. The darkness pulsed unnaturally, seeping into her body as she screamed in agony.

  Behind her, Luna’s fingers curled into fists as Alina’s scream cut through the chaos. Ice surged to her command, freezing the nearest creatures and shattering them in an instant. Again and again, she unleashed her magic, carving a path through the horde. But for every foe she felled, more cwed their way forward.

  Then, before she could reposition, tendrils shed out—swift as vipers. They coiled around her limbs, pulling her down. The corruption seeped into her skin like liquid shadow, cold and suffocating. She clenched her jaw, refusing to scream.

  In a blur, Drifter’s spectral swords cut through the restraints. Jaxon followed, spinning his bowguns into position.

  "Volcanic Whirl," Jaxon intoned.

  A bzing inferno erupted from his weapons, spiraling outward in a deadly dispy of fiery destruction. The room ignited in red, shadows twisting and shrieking as they were reduced to ash.

  Drifter wasted no time. Three sigils fred around him, unleashing a torrential rain of blue projectiles—Exalt Storm. The csh of blue and red illuminated the battlefield, the sheer force decimating the horde.

  As the st remnants of the shadow creatures burned away, Jaxon and Drifter hurried to their fallen allies. Drifter raised a hand, casting healing surge over Luna and Alina. Their ragged breaths steadied as warmth spread through their bodies, strength returning to their weary limbs.

  "Thank you," Alina breathed.

  Luna gave a small nod in acknowledgment.

  Jaxan and Drifter exchanged a faint smile before Drifter handed out evocyte recovery potions. One by one, they drank, feeling the revitalizing energy course through them. Relief settled in—until Drifter swayed slightly, a wave of dizziness washing over him from the potion's side effects.

  A heavy silence followed, broken only by the crackling of fading embers. Then, the air turned unnaturally cold. The warmth of victory drained away as a shiver crept down their spines.

  From the lingering shadows, a bck mist coalesced, twisting and writhing as it gathered mass. Its lower half trailed into nothingness, an abyss given form. At its center pulsed a deep purple core, tendrils of darkness curling around it like a living void.

  Then, without hesitation, they readied their weapons and sigils, instincts kicking in as the creature loomed closer.

  Alina moved first. She leapt forward, her Frostshard Legacy sshing at the misty form—but her bde passed through without resistance.

  "What?!" she shouted in frustration.

  The creature answered with a pulse of bck and purple energy, an eruption that shattered furniture into splinters. The others managed to dodge, but Alina was caught in the bst, barely shielded by her natural barrier.

  Gritting her teeth, Alina pushed herself up. Luna unleashed a barrage of ice magic, while Jaxon fired a volley of fiery crimson projectiles. Drifter followed with spectral swords and bursts of Exalt energy, but their attacks tore through the room, reducing the surroundings to rubble—only to pass harmlessly through the creature itself.

  Drifter frowned, clenching his sword tighter, eyes narrowing.

  Without hesitation, he teleported, reappearing right in front of the creature. His bde sshed through its form—only to pass through like mist.

  Before he could react, a bolt of darkness surged from the creature, striking him in the chest. His natural barrier flickered, absorbing most of the impact, but he still staggered back.

  Drifter exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around his weapon.

  "What is this thing…?" he muttered.