More of the adventurers leapt off the ship and landed around their guild master.

  Then a shield wall formed around him, and further behind it, more injured were being carried onto the flying ship.

  The beast seemed much more enraged by the new attacker who had been attacking it.

  It charged, trying to get to him. It tried to push in, and when that failed, it tried to get over the shield wall and attack the adventurers, but it was pushed back by a coordinated effort of the five elite adventurer guards who sent it back.

  It tried acid, but the adventurers were ready, and the liquid did nothing to the highly enchanted armour and shields of the gold ranks.

  It then tried spraying them with its acidic gas, but a couple of mages used wind magic and cleared the area.

  Mathric tore off the remains of his shirt. He flexed his muscles and readied himself to jump into the fight alone again, but sadly, his sword snapped.

  He frowned at the now-useless weapon, then he looked back at his ship.

  “Bring me my armament,” he yelled at the members of the White Dragon Guild, and a young human jumped off the ship’s deck with a bag filled with weapons and ran up to him.

  “My bow,” he asked, and the young adventurer offered it to him.

  Mathric took it, he looked at it , then shrugged, grabbed an arrow, and they watched him aim, ready, and fire the projectile at the reptilian centipede.

  The creature anticipated the arrow and blocked with its recently healed front claw. The appendage was shattered and torn free, and the creature’s massive body staggered back.

  It let out another eerie screech, and everyone covered their ears—well, almost everyone. Mathric, the albino white drake, laughed. The viashino laughed out loud, much to the fury of the unique dungeon monster.

  Seeing that this new threat was to be taken seriously, the dungeon monster's eyes narrowed into slits, then it did something new, something they hadn't seen yet.

  This was why Guild Mistress Magda had put the classification of unique on the creature. It was adapting again, giving the adventurers a new challenge to overcome.

  She tsked as she watched the entire fight through the scrying mirror.

  The centipede-like carapace that had been covering the creature cracked, hissed, and the plates started falling off its body. The parts that were insect fell off, leaving something serpentine behind.

  The flesh beneath glistened, then coiled, and a female form emerged from within. The creature had metamorphosed into a naga. It was half humanoid, half reptile, with some parts of an exoskeleton still fused to it like armour.

  It hissed at them. The smile on Mathric’s face faded. The thoughtful look on Artoz’s face grew grim.

  And the alchemist, who had bent down to collect samples of the creature’s acid, froze and got off his knees as he stepped back and away from the front lines.

  One of the terrified mages in the back cast a lightning spell that crashed into the newly formed creature—or it would have if the gorgon hadn't lifted a hand and erased the spell with counter magic.

  The creature was uncannily similar to them, the citizens of the continent. Then, there was that simple act of it casting magic, which gave all of them pause, and a silence fell over the crowd.

  “It's casting spells now,” someone said, and there was a hint of terror in their voice.

  “Mages!!, overwhelm it,” Mathric ordered, but even he knew this was to buy him time to think.

  The mages threw spells at it, but even this was futile. It countered and dodged all their magic and used a spell of its own.

  "[Necromantic Flesh Weave]", it said in a sharp voice.

  The fallen carapace of exoskeletons shifted, vibrated, and twisted, and new forms started forming out of the creature's fallen parts.

  The fallen carapaces moved toward the bodies of the fallen adventurers, fusing with them and forming new beings. The spell cast by the naga created new warriors and raised the dead.

  “Necromancy,” Mathric gritted his teeth as he watched the insectile warriors forming battle lines.

  “What are your orders?” his aide asked, and Mathric hesitated.

  He took a step forward, hesitated, but the sight of the dead faces that stared at him led him to a decision that would save the adventurers from engaging in another battle. He would need more gold ranks for this.

  “Sound the retreat. We regroup. Blow the horn!,” he ordered his aides.

  A deep, powerful, low sound of the horn flared over the entire region, and the shield wall that had been formed started retreating steadily.

  The orders were repeated by the scions and adventurers, and this time, no one was left standing behind.

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

  The wounded were carried on board. Damian and Darrow were helped up to the ship, and the last three to step onto the ship were the guild master of the Dragon’s Guild, Artoz of the Takers Guild, and the alchemist of Allm-Alor.

  —

  The skyship of the White Dragon Guild was resting high above and anchored to the tallest stone tower of Emberfall Castle.

  The ropes anchoring the floating skyship, which was also seaworthy, cracked against the wind high above.

  The enchanted canvas and wind catcher snapped softly in the wind, and the dim light made this feel like the only place unobstructed by the mist of the district.

  Mathric was already seated in the meeting room Rellina had set up to discuss the situation.

  His legs were crossed on the table, boots dangling, and he seemed far too relaxed after fighting the gorgon. In fact, anyone else would have said he looked too confident, but maybe that was because he had a floating ship that could aid in his retreat.

  Even as the guild master of the Mistcurvers Guild and the Lady of the Realm entered, his tail flicked once at the cold wind that rushed in, and he watched them without rising.

  His presence here could have been seen as an affront to the social and political order, but it was an entirely different matter when Rellina was the one who had sent out a request for aid from the Union of Guilds.

  Everyone knew the union of guilds was the system that controlled all the guilds. It handled all requests across the continent, and in theory, it was a system that brought order to the adventurers.

  In practice, it was a system of paperwork being processed, contract seals, and delays that made up any political structure of any system.

  And in those cases, bureaucracy always left room for the powerful to bend it.

  The guild master of the Mistcurvers Guild glared openly at the leader of the White Dragon Guild, his jaw hardened and his eyes locked onto the drake.

  Rellina stepped forward past the hesitant guild master of the Mistcurvers and went to stand by the table.

  Despite all the respect she was due to offer him, he was no true noble—not in the ways that really mattered. He was an adventurer before anything else.

  “I must thank you for coming when you did,” she started, only for him to wave her off.

  “Please. You had it handled. At least some of you did,” he said and looked at Jorand.

  The scion of the Brass Throne just scoffed.

  “We had it handled,” he said and took his seat around the table.

  “Of course you did, but according to reports and scryings it was those two boys from last month’s gala incident who bought you time to regroup,” he said, and in response, Jorand crossed his arms.

  “So you're here for the creature then?” Rellina asked.

  “Yes. Guild Mistress Magda said that the city needed gold ranks, and we were the first ones to respond,” he said, uncrossing and then crossing one leg over the other again.

  “A couple of gold ranks could have handled the situation. There was no need for the likes of you—a firebrand. You're doing this for the levels,” the guild master of the Mistcurvers said with clenched jaw and barely contained frustration.

  The drake's eyes narrowed on him.

  “Guild Mistress Magda asked that I come here, and with my ship she thought I could bring more help than the other guilds,” Mathric said, and this time he seemed to be addressing Rellina, although his eyes were fixed on the bald man beside her.

  Rellina understood that this meant he had taken a detour to collect members of his guild from Principal City district, and it also meant he had spoken to the guild mistress.

  She looked from one guild master to another as they turned to her. Then she spoke.

  “And how will you be conducting yourself in my city?” she asked, glancing at the leader of the Mistcurvers, who straightened beside her, but ultimately the question was for Mathric.

  “I will be acting as the overseeing guild master of a sort.”

  “For the adventurers?” Rellina pressed.

  “Yes, for all the adventurers until this matter is resolved,” Mathric said, and they all didn’t miss the sight of the other guild master pursing his lips.

  Rellina should not have been surprised by the guild master of the Mistcurvers before this moment. The man had probably guessed he would be in charge of all adventurer activities in the district, and in most cases, he would have been. That was one of the advantages of having a guild headquarters located in a city. But when one of the other guilds came in, especially the great guilds or the Union of Guilds. It was very hard to deny them what they wanted unless one was powerful.

  With the being of his superiority now broken, there was only one other way the Mistcurvers could play their cards.

  “My lady, if this is the case, we must then push for immediate action against the naga,” he said respectfully and carefully.

  Rellina didn’t miss the man’s shift. He was now deferring to her for his decisions to be taken seriously.

  “No. Let them rest. It's been two days since the fighting, and that was before the creature revealed itself to be a naga,” Mathric said, getting to his feet and walking over to the large window overlooking the courtyard.

  Rellina looked up at him from the table. She followed him with her eyes until he stopped by the window. After a while, she came to stand beside him as she also looked down at the sparring adventurers in the courtyard below.

  “I see,” she said, and she looked into the crowd, her eyes moving around until she saw Damian seated on some crates.

  —

  Damian sat still on one of the many crates that littered the castle. After the fight two days ago, and thanks to the healers—some of whom were gold rank—the adventurers were recovering quickly from the battle with the naga.

  The adventurers, those who had survived and levelled, had formed another circle around the courtyard and were testing themselves in more drunken spars.

  The noise hummed with cheers, but if he stood close to the healing tents, he could hear groaning and crying figures.

  He tilted his head upward. He didn't know why, but looking back at him was a familiar face. Rellina was looking down at him.

  The moment lingered for a bit, but just for a bit, before his attention was cut by Elora’s voice, who seemed far too excited and energetic for the situation.

  Elora clutched her satchel close and opened it in front of him, showing off the things she had brought with her from her father’s shop. Her small bag was filled with all the things he guessed she would need for her work.

  There were wands, curving tools, mana crystals, a metal rod, folds of parchment, and some enchanted tokens that were quickly becoming her speciality.

  After studying the scroll of the fire monks, her inscriptions for enchantments had gotten better, specifically those that were body enchantments.

  “You seem very excited,” Damian raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course I am. I got a new skill,” she said, giggling and bouncing on her heels.

  “You did?” he asked, looking up at her.

  “Yes, I did. I worked really hard,” she said, raising a single finger in the air.

  “What skill was it?” Damian asked.

  Elora stopped jumping up and down, then leaned in.

  “I got a skill called [Enchantment of Enduring],” she whispered, making sure he was the only one who could hear.

  “What does it do?” he asked, and Elora straightened proudly as she primmed.

  “The first time I used it, I stayed up all night working,” she paused for effect, and seeing his confusion, she puffed out her cheeks, reaching into her shirt and pulling out a hollowed token she had tied around her neck.

  “What is it?” he asked, looking at the wood-and-string necklace.

  “This is my new skill,” she pointed at it with a finger.

  “Uhhm, it looks like—”

  “Not that. The enchantment on the token,” she started to explain, a bit of frustration in her voice, then stopped when she noticed Damian had a knowing smirk on his face.

  “The look on your face,” he started chuckling, and she glared at him.