Dust rolled in with the wind.

Beyond Marralow Pass, past Titan's Road and the half-collapsed stone markers of Juniper's Keep, the land twisted into something harsher. Red clay stretched across broken hills, dry riverbeds clawed through valleys like old scars, and the sky hung low with a white, aching glare. Out here, even the clouds looked weathered.

Talo's southern frontier had always been unruly. It was a vast stretch of roads that connected Talo to the various southern provinces—but this season, it had become something worse.

At the edge of a trade-split plateau, stood Outpost Velder, a hastily fortified cluster of timber palisades and patched tents. Spears lined the outer defenses, embedded deep into the hardened soil, some crooked, others freshly bloodied. The walls leaned with age despite being built mere months ago. Sand clung to every rope, and ash lingered in the wind.

Around the camp, squads rotated watch shifts, hammered down new stakes, stitched fresh wounds. But the real tension gathered at the center.

Inside the command tent, a dozen officials gathered around a long, makeshift table. The cloth map before them was stained and sun-smeared, held in place by iron nails pinned directly into the wood. Trails and paths had been marked and remapped so many times that some lines overlapped in chaotic spirals—no longer routes, but tangled hopes.

Commander Halbrecht stood at the head. Once a polished figure in the capital's garrison, he now looked like a man who hadn't slept in a week. This—was because he hadn't. His hair was gray with dust, armor unbuckled at the side, and the lines beneath his eyes were deeper than any trench they'd dug to secure the camps.

"We wait one more day," he said, voice like gravel in a broken tin cup.

A scoff came at the command.

"We'll lose another squad by then."

Serwyn leaned forward, resting both hands on the table. His left pauldron was missing. Claw marks were etched across the steel plate still hanging on his right. Tall, straight-forward, and every bit the veteran he appeared to be—Serwyn had earned his platinum insignia five times over. And right now, he looked dangerously close to throwing the table over.

He was sick of the current conditions.

"We haven't had a merchant caravan through in six days," he said. "The last runner we sent hasn't returned. Monsters are multiplying like rabbits. The bandits we find have all killed themselves before we even get a chance to question them. And most important of all, we still have no response from Talo."

Halbrecht inhaled through his nose, slow and measured. "The runner knew the risks. She was specifically trained for—"

"She's dead," Serwyn snapped. "Or captured. Either way, it doesn't really matter; we haven't heard a damn thing in over two weeks. Our message was obviously intercepted or never made its way there. We're on our own out here, having wasted the several weeks waiting for something that may never come."

A murmur ran through the tent, uneasy and quiet, like the first shift of wind before a dust storm.

One of the younger officers, a mage with soot across her sleeves, adjusted her glasses. "What about the communication crystals? Has there been any luck with them?"

"Still dead," Serwyn replied, sending a quick glance her way. "We've tried all five. Something around us is interfering with their connection. We're still not sure if its intentional, or maybe fate just decided to give us a kick in the ass while we're already facedown in the mud."

Across the room, Kaelis—another of their platinum-tier paragons—tilted her head. "If it's deliberate," she said quietly, "then someone doesn't want Talo hearing from us."

The implication settled over them like sand filling their lungs. Most were already under this assumption. With the calamity of a possible monster flood and the influx of criminals and bandits in the area, they all knew something was odd.

Halbrecht ran a ragged hand through his beard, staring at the map as if it might offer new paths if he looked long enough.

They didn't.

"So what do any of you suggest instead? We can't hold the pass and send half our strength north just to try and contact Talo."

Serwyn's leaned forward. "We don't send half," he explained, a nod accompanying his sideways glance, "we send her." His gaze fell directly on Kaelis.

Kaelis didn't flinch, and her expression was unreadable. She did, however, give an acknowledging, but slow, nod. "I can do it," she said with a deep sigh. "Five days if I cut through Brimrose Canyon and circle north through Weller's Hollow."

The tent fell quiet again. Dust creaked across the canvas roof. Someone coughed—dry, tired. Others, simply shifted around uncomfortably.

Kaelis was a platinum-tier War Paragon. Even among the diamond-tiers there, she was extremely quick on her feet. Faster than any horse or bicorn that money could purchase. A rumor had even spread around that she once outran a Spectrius, a ghost-like leopard with twin horns on its head while dungeon raiding.

Halbrecht looked to the others.

No one objected.

He nodded once. "We finish clearing the southern ridge today. At first light tomorrow, you run."

Kaelis gave a firm nod, then stepped back.

"Good. Now, lets move onto the issue of the monster flood. Briggs has already scouted a bit further ahead, but the trails for any remaining bandits or criminals have already disappeared. According to his findings, even the density of monsters a day out have significantly decreased. Its safe to say that from here, to Juniper's keep, is where the likelihood of a monster flood happening will occur," Halbrecht said.

"Monsters don't coordinate," Serwyn muttered.

"Exactly." Briggs chimed, tapping the edge of the map. "We've all seen it. Wargs traveling with bone-fangs. Hollowlings fighting with cavernspitters. Stuff that shouldn't even be able to meet each other out of their normal environments. Something is moving them. Herding them. Turning them toward us."

"Or someone," Kaelis added, gaze still focused on the table.

A few beats of silence passed as people shifted in place.

Halbrecht exhaled sharply. "Phantom, as we've been calling them. Whoever—or whatever they are—they're three steps ahead every time. No trail, no tracks, just…carnage and dead-ends."

"The moment we capture someone who might know anything," said the female mage quietly, "they take their own lives."

"Suicide by poison capsule. A fast one, too. Never seen a body decompose right before my eyes in under a few seconds. Even regular bandits don't go that damn far when captured. Jail is better than death in almost all cases. Yet something out here is keeping these guys in check. Trained them damn well, too," Serwyn added.

"And it's not just petty criminals," Briggs said. "We found a former city guard. One of ours. Identified from the tattoo and the gear, even the guild-issued boots. He'd vanished on patrol half a year ago. Turned up here wearing monster-hide leather and wielding a corrupted focus."

"Fucking rats. All of them," Serwyn swore. "Insane. All of this. What the hell is the real goal here?"

Halbrecht turned his eyes back to the ridgeline on the map, marked in red ink. A bloody crescent sweeping across the frontier's weakest point. The implication was obvious.

"If we're right," he said grimly, "and Phantom's been baiting these creatures, using sound, magic, maybe even scent markers—then we're not facing a natural migration. We're staring down the barrel of an artificial flood."

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Kaelis's brow furrowed. "But why? Why go to that much effort just to unleash beasts into the province?"

"To soften Talo," Halbrecht answered immediately. "Disrupt trade. Drain resources. Break morale. Perhaps even revenge. All under the guise of nature taking its course."

"And when the monsters hit Talo's walls," Serwyn said slowly, "the city will be too weak and too distracted to notice what comes next. Especially since we keep losing all of our damn runners."

Silence spread like rot in the tent. The breeze outside had stilled. Kaelis in particular, was exceptionally quiet after that comment. She was the next runner after all. And if she couldn't make it to Talo quickly and safely, then all hope would be lost for this encampment.

Halbrecht looked up, his expression sharpened by years of hardened resolve. "If we fall here—if we don't stop the buildup—then that flood will hit Talo in full. And not even Commander Veyd will be able to hold the city without loss. Not if he has to fight an entire wave of coordinated monsters on every side."

His voice dropped lower, as if weighing each word with consequence. "This isn't just another frontier operation anymore. This is a siege in slow motion."

The candlelight flickered as someone shifted uneasily.

"Clear the ridge. Fortify the pass. And Kaelis, prepare your stuff now for your departure at first light.. We don't have the luxury of waiting."

No one argued.

Before everyone moved, Halbrecht leaned forward, face serious. "If these monsters reach Talo… Lorrin should be able to deal with it. Talo's defenses are almost impenetrable. But that doesn't mean the surrounding forest or terrain is. A monster flood will cause major damage to outside fields, infrastructure, and possibly dissuade further trade not from just the south, but from every other major city."

He leaned back, straightening his back. His gaze moved slowly over everyone's faces in the tent. "Talo is the White Bastion. We've never needed an army, so therefore, we don't have one. Just remember, we're the final line, the stockade that will stop the monster flood."

Everyone nodded in understanding.

"To prevent a disaster," Halbrecht said, each word deliberate, "we stop it before it begins. No flood. No siege. No messengers whispering to the city that we failed to protect its borders."

The fire crackled low, its embers shifting red beneath a cast-iron pot. The wind had gone still, leaving the tent to rest silent and heavy. In the distance, just faintly, a beast howled across the broken ridges of the southern frontier.

"Because if we don't," Halbrecht continued, his voice just above a growl, "there's no other army or backup coming. Nor one prepared to take it on."

"I can't summon an army though," Enya huffed.

A gelatinous pop rang out as a scythe sliced through a bloated green slime, its body splitting with a wet squelch. Acidic goo hissed against the stone, steaming faintly. The thing gave a single ripple, and then deflated, oozing down into inert mush.

Pell withdrew the blade, greenish slime clinging to the edge before sliding off. He rested the weapon lazily over his shoulder and turned back.

The city-wide Talo restrictions were lifted after a couple of days, as the risk of attack was deemed minimal. After talking with Renwick, both Enya and Pell went to a hunting dungeon.

"What do you mean you can't? You know how much faster this would go if you had more than me, Kidirge, and your—" His gaze drifted toward the lumbering skeletal bear. "Actually, it's just us. Your bear monstrosity isn't even fighting."

The bear in question, Ted.E, stood nearby. Massive, bone-plated, and silent. And on its spine, seated like a princess in some twisted royal procession, was Enya.

She had a cushion. And a blanket. And, as Pell noted with a twitch in his jaw and temple, a half-eaten tart resting in a napkin beside her. "I'm conserving my energy," Enya replied matter-of-factly, lounging on Ted.E's spine, legs furled out like she was on a picnic.

"You're conserving your snacks."

"It's important! You said little girls like me need to rest and eat a lot!"

"That's for when you go to sleep, you brat. All you're doing right now is relaxing and eating those stupid sweets. You'll gain weight at this rate," Pell retorted, slamming a powerful kick into a slime, sending it tumbling backwards a dozen meters.

Enya simply pouted. "I won't get fat…" she muttered, side-eyeing the tart she had just put down.

Crossing her arms, she changed the subject, muttering, "And I can only have four minions at once. I can't summon more than that. I don't know how. And you told me to not use the dungeon core monsters so we don't attract attention. You only let Mr. Bones come with us."

Pell turned back with a mutter, cleaving another slime in half. "Yeah, well, I'm beginning to regret that."

System Notification: You have landed a killing blow on Green Slime (Level 2). You have received 12 EXP. Experience Remaining Until Next Level: 542/4164

You have harvested Soul-Energy. Soul-Energy Harvested: 4

The slimes he was killing barely granted any Soul-Energy at all. Was it because they were small? Were their souls weak? What did it even depend on? The strength of the monster?

Across the field, Kidirge—who Enya still insisted on calling 'Mr. Bones'—swung his greatsword through a trio of slimes without hesitation. The acid-like properties had no effect on the both of them. Brief contact with human skin would burn and cause pain, but with bone? Nothing. Long-term damage would be an issue, but the brief brushing of slime ooze? It didn't do enough damage.

The air in the slime field dungeon was thick with moisture and humidity. A faint, swampy stench lingered from all the half-dissolved corpses of the gelatinous creatures.

The terrain wasn't difficult, but it was sticky and unpredictable. Small bubbles of acidic ooze would occasionally erupt from the moss-covered ground. Luckily, Ted.E was large enough to carry Enya through, safely. They'd be able to kill as many slimes as they wanted.

None of the actual loot mattered, though.

Slimes were worthless. Most of them.

Their cores were barely worth the effort; they were mostly used in low-tier adhesive or binding agents. Only rare variants carried any real value, like Alkali Slimes—and even those appeared so infrequently that no self-respecting adventurer bothered with these dungeons anymore.

Which made it perfect for Enya. She wasn't here for loot or cores. She needed soul energy—and lots of it.

Creating a sanctum for herself, specifically a forge, would require a massive amount of energy to awaken. Her mana pool—locked at a meager thirty—was laughably small for such a task. Even with mana potions, the constant drain would leave her weak and the diminishing returns would stack up quickly.

Soul energy, on the other hand… was abundant. Renewable. And thanks to her class, entirely hers to harness.

The minutes stretched on, heavy with repetition. Slime. Slice. Slime. Crush. The greenish muck clung to boots, bones, and blades alike.

Kidirge's greatsword hissed through another gelatinous cluster, splitting three in a single blow. Pell, ever the reluctant servant merchant, handled his end of the work with efficient disinterest.

And then there was Enya, lounging atop Ted.E, still swaying gently like royalty on parade. Except her gaze wasn't idle. Her eyes flicked from one slime to the next, focused and calculating. With each new creature, her Insight skill activated.

Skill: Insight has been activated. Target: Green Slime Revealed Information: A small, slightly acidic slime. Its mobility is low, but it can stick to any surface. The core within its body controls most of its mass.

Slowly but surely, she was getting the quest done.

Quest: Use insight on 100 unique targets. Progress: 55/100 Knowledge, truth, and understanding are the essence of a Visionary. To acclimate to your role, use Insight on 100 different (unique) targets.

Enya began to feel the air's discomfort after another half hour of trudging through the repulsive, acidic slime farm. That was their cue to stop and make their way back.

Since all there was, was common, green slimes, there was no loot worth taking. Absolutely nothing of importance struck out at them. But it didn't matter too much. Enya got what she had come for.

They wiped off what they could. Pell scraped his scythe clean against the corner of an old stone outcrop. Kidirge flicked lingering ooze from his blade with a low grunt, then returned it to the holster slung across his back.

"Let's go home," Enya said, stretching her arms overhead. "I need a bath. And a snack. But mostly a bath."

Ted.E let out a low clack of bone as it turned backward. The skeletal bear was quiet and steady. Always obedient. Of her summons so far, it seemed the most timid. She wasn't sure why.

Sable's notes specifically mentioned that the Summon Skeleton spell just reanimated bones as constructs, moved by her mana. Unlike Mr. Bones or Pell, they didn't have distinct personalities. Just raw vessels of her will, with maybe a lingering trace from whatever bone she used.

But that didn't explain why the rampaging boarbear was so tranquil. Even its gait was cautious. Almost gentle. Completely different from when it tried to eat her.

"Maybe it's just not hungry…?" Enya murmured, brows furrowing in mild confusion.

They strolled leisurely, no longer in a rush. No danger left to cull. Slime coated the grass and dirt, which clumped in stubborn mounds across the wide expanse of dungeon grass. The blue shimmer of the portal was visible now, flickering in the shallow distance like a ripple on glass.

"Do you think the slime goo is going to stain?" Enya asked, peering at Pell and his legs covered in some of the acidic liquid.

"Stain?" Pell muttered, lifting one bony limb with clear distaste. "I think we're both going to smell like swamp for a week."

The reply came with his usual sarcasm, but the words didn't finish settling before something shifted.

As they came closer to the portal, something stopped them in their tracks. Then both of them, Enya and Pell, let out a sharp inhale, almost synchronized.

Enya froze.

One moment she was bouncing lightly atop Ted.E's spine, and the next—her body stiffened completely. Every muscle locked. Her hands trembled once before falling still. Her eyes glowed. Not faintly, but blazingly, a rich yellow hue radiating from beneath her lashes like coals behind crystal.

Pell stopped beside her.

His hand instinctively lifted, reaching toward the girl, but then halted mid-motion. His skeletal form went rigid, purple soul-flames in his eyes flaring within his sockets.

Kidirge noticed immediately.

He turned with the full motion of his armored frame. His skull pivoted first, sword already halfway drawn before realizing there was no threat. At least, not one that could be fought.

He took a few slow steps forward.

Ted.E also came to a gentle halt, lowering his stance slightly, as if sensing a tremor beneath reality. He didn't growl. He didn't move.

Both summons stood vigilant. Waiting.

Waiting... for the vision to pass.

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