Thalion was genuinely happy to see Annie again. She had clearly grown stronger since the last time they had crossed paths. Her presence carried a calm confidence, the kind that only came from overcoming real danger. The group gathered around her, quiet and attentive, as she began to share her story. She told them how she had left the Blue Robes behind, how she had teamed up with Logan on the fifth stage, and how everything had unraveled. A single vampire, powerful beyond belief, had wiped out an entire army on her own. Only those with escape tokens had made it out alive. Steven’s base had been overrun as well, and he had joined Logan before the massacre.

The room fell into silence as the weight of her story settled in. Thalion's thoughts wandered. What had become of Thorwald? Could he really have died back on the fourth stage? That seemed unlikely. Thorwald was too proud, too stubborn, and far too arrogant to die in silence. Seeing Annie again reminded Thalion of someone else—Jakob. He had almost forgotten him entirely. Was Jakob still with Kael’s group? Evelyn had told Thalion that Jakob did not believe Kael’s claims about Thalion going rogue. Maybe it was time to end the conflict at its root.

Annie was also concerned about Jakob’s fate. That sparked a dangerous idea in Thalion’s mind, one bold enough to be useful. What if he sent Annie to infiltrate Kael’s camp? She could gather information, observe their strength, maybe even help Jakob escape. Even if she did not want to mislead anyone, she could still offer Kael’s followers a safer option. Thalion was not interested in collecting extra citizens or earning more points. He simply wanted to strip Kael of his protection and force him to fight without hiding behind others.

They agreed to head to the tower and relax over a few drinks. The reconstruction of the Black Fortress would take more time, and this felt like the last real moment to unwind before the coming storm. Thalion could have chosen to cultivate instead, but the gains would have been minor. What he really needed was a clear head. The final stage of the tutorial would be brutal, and peaceful moments like this might not come again for a long time.

Josh and Jack took the chance to properly introduce themselves to Annie, since they had not met her before. She was particularly interested in how they had obtained their unique races. The conversation flowed naturally, shifting to Annie’s time in the ocean. She had rescued a high-variant crocodile, which quickly grew stronger by her side. Together, they hunted through the depths until she was summoned to the fifth stage. Thalion listened with interest. He knew what kind of beasts lived in the sea. That Annie had not only survived but thrived proved just how much she had advanced.

"By the way, does anyone know what happened to the Water Princess or Thorwald?" Annie asked, leaning back in her chair with a thoughtful look. It was a fair question. No one had seen them in weeks, and with egos like theirs, they should have made their presence known.

"Maybe they’re just avoiding the special quest and waiting for the whole thing to end," Kaldrek said, casually dismissive.

"That doesn’t sound like Thorwald," Thalion muttered. He doubted the man would hide. More likely, he was waiting for survivors to emerge from the catacombs, wounded and vulnerable, so he could strike.

"It doesn’t matter," Josh said firmly. "If they start preying on the weak in the forest, we’ll hunt them down."

"Well said, Josh," Jack chimed in enthusiastically. "We’ll find them no matter where they hide. I’ll be Sherlock, and you can be Doctor Watson."

Annie laughed, surprised by the sudden turn in tone and Jack’s dramatic flair.

"Wait, why do I have to be the doctor?" Josh asked, pretending to be offended.

"Good question," Jack replied, tapping his chin. "You’d make a terrible doctor. Didn’t Sherlock Holmes have a dog? Maybe you could be that."

Annie laughed even harder, and even Thalion smiled as he leaned back in his massage chair. He opened a bottle of beer from the system shop and took a long sip, feeling the tension ease for the first time in days.

This was a good group. Unusual, maybe even a bit chaotic, but loyal and strong. They had been forged by hardship and battle, and they were still standing. Thalion hoped they would all survive what was coming, though he knew deep down that the odds were slim. With monsters like the vampiress still roaming, survival would be anything but guaranteed.

--

Elaria Valefaye stood on the upper deck of the skyship, her cloak fluttering softly in the early desert breeze. Below her, the final human base was being completed. Their victory over the Black Fortress had granted them a critical position between the elven camp and the undead territory. Unlike the elves, who had only erected a few defensive walls, the humans now had a stronghold. With only two days remaining, time pressed on like a tightening noose. Perhaps the humans had delayed their construction on purpose, forcing the other camps to remain passive. If the factions had finished too early, blood would have been spilled long before the undead arrived.

The undead had remained eerily calm. No attacks, no bursts of killing intent, not even a show of dominance. Rumors among the scouts told of a vampiress who now led the undead. She had annihilated an entire camp by herself, leaving no survivors except those lucky enough to have escape tokens. Despite the whispers, Elaria felt no fear. Her strength had surged beyond recognition. The moment her bloodline evolved, it felt as though her very soul had been reforged. It was not a subtle change. It was transformation on a fundamental level.

Hiding her power was a challenge. She could feel it pressing against the walls of her self-control, eager to erupt. But caution was vital. The other elves could not suspect the extent of her evolution. If they knew, some might see her as a threat and strike before she reached her peak. That possibility did not frighten her, but she preferred to remain underestimated. In the coming battles, being overlooked could mean the difference between victory and death.

Beneath her calm expression, anger simmered. Her son was still missing, taken by a human. When the time came, she would find that man. She would peel back his every secret, force him to scream until his throat bled, and she would not stop until she had every detail about his patron. Elaria had never needed tools to inflict pain, but in this new world, there were surely more refined methods. If she had to purchase torture guides from the system to make his agony exquisite, she would do so gladly.

Movement in the human camp caught her eye. Thalion, the man with the burning eyes, stood at the center, issuing orders. Defenses were being installed, weapons mounted, and skyships repositioned. He moved with the confidence of command, entirely focused. He was not alone. Four others, faces Elaria recognized from the battle on the wall, were helping him. She memorized them. If she ever caught one alone in the catacombs, they would serve as perfect bait. If Thalion refused to face her, she would make him watch as his allies were broken before his eyes.

Kael and Sylas were watching too. Their eyes were locked on Thalion, their posture tense. They looked like predators preparing to strike, bodies coiled, muscles tight. But Thalion seemed unaware. He continued his work with a singular focus, guiding his people, ignoring the tension building like a storm around him.

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Elaria’s lips curled slightly. Other elves had begun eyeing the humans as well. Humans were valuable, if not as slaves, then as tools. They could scout terrain, collect materials, or serve as living bait. Some even possessed talent in crafting. In rare cases, they could be trained. More often, they were disposable. In earlier stages, they had captured humans who arrived prematurely. Wounding them and sending them bleeding into the jungle had proven to be the perfect lure for hungry vampires.

A dark amusement filled her chest at the memory. Nights spent hunting vampires alongside her son, blades flashing under moonlight, enemies falling before they ever saw the strike. It had been done in secret, of course. Peace existed on paper, but both sides had long broken the pact. Disappearances were common. With the elfen prince now dead, some of those vanished hunters were beginning to raise questions. Back then, there were even beasts that roamed the jungle strong enough to wipe out small elven squads. But those days were gone.

Now the goal was clear. Destroy the undead. Then she would retrieve her son and ensure the man who took him died in pieces.

She turned her gaze to the distant dunes. The sun had begun to rise, casting long shadows and bathing the desert in a golden-orange glow. The air shimmered with heat, but the tension between the camps remained cold and tight. The humans continued setting up their base as if the clock did not exist. Around them, the elves and the other faction stood waiting in silence.

The only ones who seemed unconcerned were the undead. They stood along the walls of their black bastion, watching with expressions of glee. They appeared almost playful, as if enjoying the sight of the humans scrambling below. Though they moved little, their posture spoke volumes. The undead had never intended to attack early. In their eyes, this entire delay was a pointless farce. And as Elaria watched the last touches go onto the human fortress, she couldn’t help but agree.

--

Both the elven and human camps stood silently, eyes fixed on the horizon where the last human faction was erecting the Black Fortress. What none of them realized was that they were not alone. From the shifting sands of a nearby dune, a hidden scout watched, concealed beneath a layered illusion. He lay completely still, one hand gripping a spy crystal that shimmered faintly with arcane energy, capturing every movement below.

“Damn it, what’s taking them so long,” Thorwald muttered, his voice thick with frustration. He stood a safe distance away, also cloaked by illusion magic, gifted to him by his new allies. His white crystalline armor glinted under the morning sun, and the massive axe on his back pulsed with silent menace. Around him stood the remaining survivors of his old team and the warriors of the Raha. Since receiving his baptism, they had pledged themselves to him, drawn by the power he now carried. Not only had they trained him, but their smiths had reforged his armor and weapon, raising them to mythic rarity. Compared to legendary gear, mythic felt like wielding the essence of gods.

At first, Thorwald had aimed to destroy the pillars and wipe out the undead infestation. That was before he saw what the enemy had become. The number of undead monstrosities had grown beyond anything he could have imagined. The Black Fortress itself was heavily fortified, and their group was simply too small to mount an assault. The Raha were talented, but their numbers were limited. The humans who had been forcefully teleported into the fifth stage were barely worth their rations. How some of them were still stuck at level forty was beyond comprehension. Thorwald could hardly believe anyone could be that weak.

When he realized he was unable to challenge the vampires directly, he decided to wait. One of the Raha scouts had soon reported an alliance between the elves and several human factions. When Thorwald heard that one of those camps was led by Kael, his blood boiled. He had wanted to strike immediately, but Bardo, the Raha chieftain, suggested patience. Let them fight the vampires and destroy the pillar first, then strike while they were weak.

It would have been a good plan, if not for one problem. The scout had confused the names. They had followed a man named Logan instead of Kael. And Logan’s base had been completely annihilated by a single vampiress. She had torn through his people like a storm through dry leaves. Thorwald had grown strong, but even now he would not dare challenge such a being. Her strength, her speed, her sorcery, and her sheer skill were beyond reason. Even the Raha hesitated when speaking of her. They were brave, disciplined fighters with flawless coordination, but even they treated her like a force of nature.

Bardo was the only one who might rival Thorwald in strength, though Thorwald would never admit it aloud. The other Raha had their own unique gifts, but he remained confident that he stood above them all. He had never faced them in full combat, but he had seen enough to trust his judgment. Still, with the vampiress guarding the final pillar, they waited in silence, watching the last factions arrive.

Each passing hour added to Thorwald’s fury. Every plan had fallen apart. And now, to make matters worse, the largest human camp was being led by Thalion. The man who had humiliated him with a fireball and a smirk. That smug bastard was now leading the strongest human faction. Thorwald couldn’t believe his luck. There was no way someone that weak had conquered the Black Fortress without intervention. No amount of skill or planning could explain that success.

Now there were only two days left. The air itself felt heavier with tension. Even the Raha, once unwavering, had begun to question whether destroying the final pillar was even possible.

“They don’t look like allies,” said Joe, the scout who held the crystal. His tone was hushed but curious. “See how the elves and Kael glare at the humans in the fortress? I think they hate each other.”

Joe was Thorwald’s most loyal follower, which was why he had been gifted some of the best equipment. Thorwald usually would have barked at such a comment, but something about it held truth. He had seen Kael and Thalion fight together before, and back then their teamwork had been almost perfect. Thorwald had even considered recruiting Thalion once. The thought now felt like a bad joke.

“Joe is right,” Bardo said calmly before Thorwald could snap. “They’re not allies anymore. I doubt Thalion even knows it, but Kael and Sylas are definitely plotting something.”

Thorwald leaned forward and studied the image again. The illusion displayed the spy crystal’s full view. Kael and Sylas looked different. Colder. There was no warmth in their expressions, no camaraderie. Just raw calculation and silent disdain. It was a look Thorwald knew well. He saw it every morning in the mirror.

“Look,” Bardo said, nodding at the illusion. “The leaders are gathering. Probably a final war council. Pity we can’t hear what they’re saying.”

He was right. From each camp, a small group emerged, walking slowly toward the open space between the three factions. Ten elves in formation. Kael with his loyalists. Thalion with unfamiliar faces at his side. Thorwald narrowed his gaze. Things were about to get interesting. If fortune smiled upon him just once, he could strike after the battle. After the undead were crushed and the pillar destroyed, he would make his move. And when he did, no one would be left standing.