CHAPTER 109: 107 - UNKNOWN TERRITORY

Whatever was happening on the main island—it was only bad news.

Velren’s thoughts raced as he took in the sight of the distant citadel, its levitation core flickering into nonexistence. A sense of urgency gripped his chest, but he forced himself to think. He needed a plan.

First—where the hell is he?

This island... it was unfamiliar. Dark cliffs, jagged terrain, an eerie quiet hanging in the air like a held breath. He was nowhere near the main island—far, far from it. The citadel stood as a distant silhouette, separated by fragmented isles, impossible to reach by conventional means. If something was happening there, he wasn’t in a position to do anything about it—not yet.

Second—who activated the teleportation?

That light—that consuming brilliance that engulfed the main hall. Someone triggered it, someone set it into motion. And yet, as far as he could tell, no one else was here. Had this been pre-planned? Or was it something beyond even that?

But none of that mattered—not as much as the last question.

Where is Solenne?

His fists clenched. That part came first. Back then, he had moved toward her, stepping into the light that enclosed her. By logic, they should have been transported together. So she couldn’t be far—right? Right?!

Velren exhaled sharply. What did he even know about the common rules of teleportation?! For all he knew, she could be miles away, lost in some unknown expanse. And if that was the case—

No. He had to move.

Without wasting another second, Velren bent his knees and leapt down from the cliffside.

’So much for a peaceful night...’

***

Navigating the island was anything but simple. The jagged, obsidian terrain gave way to stretches of uneven rock and patches of eerie, crystalline growths that refracted the dim light of the sky. The air carried a sharp, mineral tang, making every breath feel slightly heavier than it should.

His mind raced as he pushed forward, scanning his surroundings for any sign of Solenne. The main isle was distant—far too distant. There was no way he had been randomly thrown here, not without intent. But whose? And for what reason?

Then—voices.

Velren instinctively pressed himself against the uneven rock, lowering his stance as he honed in on the source. Peering through the dark, he spotted movement near the base of a slope. Two figures stood there, engaged in quiet discussion.

He recognized the uniforms immediately. The officials. The same ones who had guided the dignitaries to the Citadel earlier that night.

Maybe they were searching for missing guests? That would make sense—except something about their stance, their low tones, made him hesitate.

Velren remained perfectly still, his breath controlled as he listened.

"This isn’t part of the plan," one of the officials muttered, his tone laced with frustration.

"Doesn’t matter now," the other replied sharply. "The operation’s in motion. All that’s left is securing the priority targets."

Velren’s fingers curled slightly against the rock. Priority targets?

Yeah... they were definitely not here looking for survivors. Nor were they up to anything good.

Velren’s mind worked fast. He needed options—and he needed them now.

Charging in blindly? No, too reckless. He didn’t know their numbers, their capabilities, or how well-equipped they were. More importantly, if they were looking for priority targets, there was a damn good chance Solenne was one of them. If he acted rashly, he might tip them off or—worse—lead them straight to her.

Stealth, then. Gather intel first. If these officials were involved in whatever was happening at the citadel, they might have answers. Answers he needed.

’Find out what they know. And if they’re a problem... deal with them quiet—’

A sudden, piercing caw split the sky.

Velren’s head snapped up—just in time to see a red-furred blur hurtling down toward the two officials. They barely had a second to react, both jerking their gazes skyward in alarm.

"What the—?!" one of them started, but his words turned into a panicked yell.

Too late.

The creature crashed into them with devastating force, a fiery impact blasting outward. The officials were flung like ragdolls, their bodies skidding across the rocky terrain before going still. Dust and embers lingered in the air, heat prickling against Velren’s skin even from a distance. He raised an arm to shield his eyes from the aftershock.

When he looked again, the culprit stood in plain view.

A phoenix, its crimson feathers pulsing with a simmering glow. And on its back—

"...Huh. Would you look at that?" Velren muttered.

Raine Ashford.

The girl hopped off the phoenix in one smooth motion, her boots crunching against the scorched ground. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t even check if the two officials were still alive. Instead, she walked toward one of the bodies, her spear already brandished.

Velren narrowed his eyes, focusing on the officials. He stepped closer, checking their state more thoroughly. Unconscious. Definitely out of commission. But before he could even process what to do next—

Raine lifted her spear.

Her stance, the angle of her weapon, the unwavering intent behind it—it wasn’t hard to tell what she was about to do.

’What the hell is she up to?!’

And then, before he even thought about it, his voice cut through the silence.

"Hey! Hey!"

Raine instantly whirled, spear snapping into a defensive position. Her expression was unreadable, shadowed by the dim light.

Velren raised both hands, stepping forward cautiously. "I-It’s me..."

Velren took another step forward, his hands still raised in a gesture of peace. The lingering heat from the phoenix’s impact still radiating off the ground. Raine remained motionless for a moment, her spear held firm, her breathing steady—but then, as he moved closer, her face slowly came into view.

And that was when he saw it.

A tear.

It traced a silent path down her cheek, glistening under the dim light.

Velren blinked, caught off guard.

"Ar—are you alright?" he asked hesitantly.

But before she could respond, a sharp caw rang out.

The phoenix—Ignis—shuddered violently, its form trembling.

Raine’s expression instantly changed. "Ignis!" she called in panic, rushing toward the creature without a second thought.

Velren followed her, his own concern rising. And then he saw it.

A gaping wound marred the phoenix’s right wing, dark against its crimson feathers. His eyes widened.

Raine knelt beside her companion, her hands hovering uselessly over the wound, her breaths coming faster. She looked utterly lost—panicked, as if she had no idea what to do.

Velren hesitated, watching Raine’s trembling hands as she hovered over the wound, clearly overwhelmed. He had never seen her like this before—so lost, so unlike the sharp, cocky fighter he knew.

"...What happened?" he finally asked with a careful voice.

No response.

Raine didn’t even glance his way. Her gaze remained locked on one of the unconscious officials, her expression hardening into something colder.

Then, without a word, she stood, tightening her grip on her spear.

Velren stiffened as she began to move, her intent was clear as she walked toward the downed man.

"Hey!" he called, stepping forward. She didn’t stop.

’God damnit...’

He moved faster, positioning himself directly between her and the official before she could get any closer.

Raine halted, her eyes flashing with barely restrained fury.

"Move," she demanded, her voice taut with frustration.

Velren held his ground. "I don’t know what happened, but... what you’re about to do—it won’t change anything."

Her grip on her spear trembled. "He—they—" She sucked in a sharp breath. "They deserve worse."

"Maybe they do." Velren met her gaze, unwavering.

"But is this really going to fix what happened? Will it take back whatever they did?"

Raine clenched her jaw. She was shaking, her emotions barely held together.

"I should have done something," she whispered, voice cracking. "I should’ve—I should’ve stopped it—"

"Then calm down and tell me what happened."

For a long moment, Raine stood there, her breath was uneven, fingers twitching against the shaft of her spear. Then—

With a ragged exhale, her strength crumbled.

The spear slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground.

Her shoulders trembled as the fight drained out of her, and before Velren could react, she let out a broken sob—then, reflexively, leaned forward.

Right into his chest.

Velren tensed awkwardly, unsure of what to do, but he didn’t move away. The girl clung to his uniform, shaking, her muffled cries the only sound in the eerie quiet.