In a district state not so far away, a white-scaled drake sat upright as his narrowed on the scrying orb he held in his hand. He was an outcast among his people, and it was there for everyone to see. He was white-scaled, not green, not red, not even blue. He was a drake without true colour. But he was also known as the Guild Master of the White Dragons guild party.

  The white drake sat forward, his eyes fixed on Rellina.

  “A creature that resists Authority…” he muttered. Now that was something he would actually get a challenge out of fighting by himself.

  He was one of the highest-level individuals, and that was why the members of his guild were waiting for his judgment.

  He turned to one of his aides.

  “Prepare the skyship. The White Dragons head to Mistwall.”

  At his pronouncement, the guild headquarters—which was a ship in one of the canals east of the continent- rejoiced in merriment as they prepared for battle.

  Some others, on the other hand, worried that even this would not be enough. They worried that he would reach the city, fight the monster, and still not acquire the skill he wanted. It was a testament to ruler skills that you were either born with them, or you weren't, but then again, those select few who earned them were powerful indeed.

  Meanwhile, far away in Principal City, Elora, the half-elf stared into a handheld scrying mirror held by one of the scribes on the docks. She saw Damian and Darrow fighting and running, and she knew she had to help them.

  She burst into the shop and started collecting all her tools. There was no way she was going to let them fight without her help. not after what they had done for her, not after she had levelled by just helping her friends.

  “Hey, hey, what’s going on,” her father tried to ask her.

  But she quickly moved past him to grab a few more things.

  “I’m going, Father.”

  “Where?” the older half-elf enchanter asked, following her through the shop.

  “To Mistwall.” She yelled from under a table as she picked up one of her curving tools.

  “Mistwall? Mistwall...? Absolutely not. It’s dangerous. The City watch is fortifying the border,” he said, his hands going from his chin to his waist as he tried to look stern.

  “It’s them, Father. Damian and Darrow need my help,” she said and looked up at him.

  Her father hesitated, but he had never seen her so passionate, so he sighed and relented. He then helped her pack her supplies of enchanting gear.

  Elsewhere in the district states not so far away from Mistwall, the Brassthron Concord had seen it all. They had seen the fight, the monster's uniqueness and the challenge it would pose.

  All four leaders were seated around a circular table.

  The images of the mist and fight had just disappeared, and now it only showed a picture of the Emberfall Castle.

  The half-elf man leaned back. He looked around at his four colleagues, then asked the question.

  “This monster—where did it come from?”

  “Word is spreading across the message spells that no one knows,” the human man said as he stroked his beard.

  “And those two who wounded it,” the goliath half-giant asked.

  “Are they nobles?" the half-elf asked.

  "A pair of troublemakers last seen at the ballroom. They exposed Lord Greldo for his misdeeds,” the human man said, clicking his tongue and waving a hand in dismissal.

  “I will send one of mine to deal with this threat,” the fourth member, a woman, said as she walked into the room and started ascending to take a seat at the round table.

  All the others frowned, and the air grew charged between them as their eyes all followed her as she took a seat.

  It was important to know that the Brassthrone Concord was a collection of four cities and four proud houses. They grated on one another, but if ever an outsider tried to interfere with them, they were most likely to put aside their differences and deal with the threat first before going back to fighting each other.

  “I’ll send my son to this battle. He will level from this,” the goliath said.

  “No, I’ll send my daughter. Her archery skills will prove to all of you that she deserves the throne,” the half-elf said.

  “Is that all? My son will bring me back its head,” the human man said.

  —

  Elora [Noble Level Fifteen — Noble Level Sixteen]

  —

  Damian looked out beyond the castle’s battlements. He looked into the mist and saw nothing, but he knew it was still out there.

  He pushed his hand beyond the barrier, and there was a roar from the creature that startled the clerks and the enchanters who stood recording notes and casting spells to attract the centipede monster outside. They stepped back in fear. it was like seeing the scholars in one of the dungeons poking and prodding at some new magic they had never seen before.

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  “What did you do?” the senior clerk, the old man, asked his companion.

  “I don’t know what spell we were casting.” the young enchanter in thick robes hesitated to answer.

  “Mana Light,” another, this one clerk holding notes, said.

  “No, before that.” the senior mage asked.

  “Mana Light,” she repeated.

  “It must be something else,” the old man said, tapping his chin and looking around at the barrier that separated the castle from the rest of the state.

  “Why has it come back?” the young clerk asked, pointing a shaky finger to the dark silhouette.

  “Must be the time of day. It hasn’t attacked yet,” the man said, recording something in his notes as he started looking around for anything out of the ordinary.

  Damian looked away and started walking off very fast. He did not want the clerks of the Guild Union questioning him and finding out that the creature was indeed after him and his brother.

  After a while, he got to the bottom of the stairs of the battlements, where he found an old crate that he sat on, then he started inspecting his sword.

  Out in the courtyard around him, the place that had once been empty when they had both been brought by the assassin was now filled with adventurers, refugees of the district, and guild personnel.

  Word had spread fast about the bounty across the world’s district states. And in Principal City, messengers and runners ran between guild posts and different districts. They went shouting about the creature, and it was clear even to Magda what a fuss this would become.

  She also noted the bounty boards being updated by the guild [scribes] and [clerks].

  The guild hall was crowded after the first group she had sent out to Mistwall had fought and been beaten back by the monster. The bounty on the creature had attracted even more attention, and the price had doubled since then. Adventurers crowded around each board, watched scrying mirrors, discussed, and argued loudly.

  “And how many adventurers were in the fight?” an adventurer with a long sword on his hip asked.

  “I’m telling you, it was a group of silver ranks and bronze ranks.”

  “The idea that a monster took down that many people, including silver ranks… they were probably weak,” the leonin adventurer scoffed loudly.

  “We can take this beast down. All we need is traps,” a bronze-rank team boasted and laughed gregariously.

  The others laughed nervously. Surely there was no way they were supposed to believe these rumours. they had to be exaggerated.

  On the other hand, when the drakes heard of the creature, they immediately raised the bounty. They sent a runner, and the letter was immediately sent upward to her office.

  Guild Mistress Magda cursed softly as she signed another bounty approval. She had finished reading the letter, and as it turned out, this was indeed a unique monster.

  This was her second ink pot, and her assistant scrambled to replace the empty glass pot with a new one.

  Runners left Principal City and moved across the entire continent to spread the word. Then there was the fact that the dungeon had closed immediately after the monster had escaped.

  This was the information she could put on the notice boards. The more sensitive and serious information, and the reason why the drakes had raised the bounty publicly, was because of what Lady Rellina had reported to her. It was also the reason the powerful monster wasn’t crossing into the other districts.

  Back at Emberfall Castle, the gates opened and closed repeatedly. More and more adventurers had started arriving.

  Hoofbeats of the spirit horses echoed through the streets, and more guild teams entered the castle’s barrier.

  In one crowded section of the large courtyard, the sound of metal clanking was particularly loud as a group of adventurer knights strapped on their armour.

  In another part of the courtyard, tents went up in messy clatter, whether they were for the citizens of Mistwall who were taking refuge thanks to their nobles, or the failed adventurers who had come to make a name for themselves, Damian didn’t know.

  Despite the danger presented by the monster and how dangerous it had already proved to be, merchants had made the journey as well.

  The large courtyard of a once-forgotten castle was beginning to resemble a small market square.

  There were weaponsmiths who had come along with the adventurers and hammered their blades. Healers had set up a triage corner as ordered by the guild master, and even a bard appeared to try and cheer the people, but he was quickly shut down.

  The courtyard had become a maze of wagons, crates, and campfires, and the adventurers were beginning to argue over who had come first. One of the silver-ranked teams wanted to be the first to take on the monster when it appeared again.

  Damian sat on the old crate and started oiling his sword. He shook his head, then watched as more of the adventurers moved about, forming temporary parties and asking about the monster. They talked for a bit and sent their scouts out to look for the beast.

  Damian looked at a chip on his sword, then back at the adventurers, and he knew they wouldn’t find it.

  He looked to the side, but Darrow wasn’t back yet. He was sure that his brother was off somewhere on some escapade, exploring or getting his hands busy at the many stalls going up amid all the confusion.

  Damian kept sharpening his sword. It had dulled a bit when he had struck the monster, and if he wanted to get out of this place, something told him he would need it sharp and ready again.

  Darrow found him like that. He offered him some bread, and he had a grin that was hard for Damian to interpret.

  He took the bread, looked at it, then back up at Darrow and arched an eyebrow.

  “Relax. The baker is a kind woman. She thought we could use it,” Darrow said and pointed a thumb back at an elderly woman with an apron and a cloth wrapped around her head.

  The woman waved at him. He gave her a gentle nod back, and Darrow gave her an exaggerated bow.

  “And what did you find out as you were spying about,” Damian gestured with one hand as he used the other to bite into the bread.

  “It’s the guild. They raised the bounty on the monster, and now everyone wants that coin.”

  “How much coin?”

  “Ten thousand gold pieces.”

  “Ten—” Damian coughed, nearly choking on the bread he was eating.

  “With that much, even more people are gonna come. Do you know what happens if they find out we can attract it?”

  That was very hard for Darrow to imagine. If they found out that they could attract the monster, then they would use them as bait.

  They sat together silently as they watched adventurers come and go that afternoon. They were all looking to catch sight of the large centipede, but they all returned empty-handed, or rather with no news.

  Damian really shouldn’t have been surprised about what happened next. Darrow was, or he pretended to be.

  A group of bronze-rank adventurers approached them. They were dressed like the average adventurer. They had thick dark leather armour, metal plating with shirts and trousers underneath.

  “You two. You’re the ones who fought that monster,” the adventurer asked, coming to a stop with five of his party members following behind him.

  Damian looked up at the group, then ignored them, looking back down as he felt the edges of his sword.

  “How did you injure it? Did it have a weakness,” another one of the adventurers asked.

  “None at all,” Darrow deadpanned.

  The adventurers turned to him, looking offended.

  “We saw you on the scrying orbs. You cut its leg off.”

  “You’re bronze ranks, right? Then you will just die if you fight the creature,” Damian said. He wasn't going to lie and get them killed, but the man saw it differently, however. His eye twitched as he frowned.

  “You two are not dead,” the leader of the adventurers said, and he laughed low.

  “Well, we are good,” Darrow said, standing beside the seated Damian.

  “Are you calling us weak?” The leader of the bronze ranks stepped forward aggressively, and Damian rose abruptly from his seat and stepped into his space, halting him immediately.

  “He gets grumpy when he’s in one place for too long,” Darrow placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder, but if it came to a fight, he had his other hand on his dagger.

  The bronze-rank adventurer looked from one face to another. It was dizzying looking at the two familiar faces, which also made him hesitate.

  The small crowd that had been walking past suddenly noticed them, and they started clearing the area, anticipating a fight to break out.