Deep within the dense, sun-drenched forest—where towering trees cast layered shadows heavy enough to momentarily soften the harsh blaze of the afternoon.

A group of brown-cloaked figures moved swiftly through the undergrowth.

Their steps were measured yet silent, gliding between ancient trunks as if the forest itself willingly parted for them.

They were the operatives of Ordo Ferox, the direct subordinates of Axis—faces already familiar to the tapestry of this story.

Lagan, Lela, Baso, Ramla, and Cella.

Ayu, who had accompanied them the day before, was absent from the formation.

Her body still required recovery after suffering the lingering backlash of their previous confrontation several days prior.

Their coordinated movements formed a seamless flow—light, efficient, and executed with the sort of vigilance that only veterans of countless missions could exhibit.

Each stride produced a faint rustle across the blanket of dried leaves, as though the forest itself was holding its breath in quiet respect for the presence of five such individuals.

Small birds perched on high branches occasionally fluttered away, startled by the dense, refined energy signature radiating from the Ordo Ferox members.

No one wasted words. No unnecessary chatter lingered in the air. The aura of professionals on duty clung to them like a second skin.

"Are we still far?" Lela asked, her tone calm yet sharpened with intent.

Lagan shook his head lightly without breaking stride.

"It seems we're close," he replied with a casual ease.

His voice carried a relaxed cadence.

Yet his eyes never ceased sweeping the surroundings, scanning for minute traces of traps or the subtle fluctuations that often preceded the presence of high-energy creatures.

And indeed, barely a hundred meters further, the thick forest abruptly gave way, ending at the foot of a sprawling field of massive black stone formations.

The stones resembled the jagged remnants of some primordial volcanic eruption—sharp, solid, and absorbing the sun's heat only to reflect it back in waves that shimmered like concealed embers.

A faint, briny breeze drifted into the air, mingling with the humid scent of forest soil.

The wind's whistle grew sharper now; the coastline was close.

The five of them stood on one of the large black stones.

Their gazes sweeping across the barren rock-filled expanse that served as a transitional boundary before the terrain opened entirely into the beach.

Not far beyond that lay a massive complex of buildings shrouded in a chilling, oppressive aura.

The Bahari Maritime Academy.

Even from this distance, Lagan could sense unstable currents of energy pulsating faintly from its structures—like the turbulent breath of a dormant giant.

They exchanged brief words regarding their objective: the high-level shaman rumored to be hiding somewhere within the academy grounds.

"That shaman… he should be there, right?" Lela asked softly yet with a cutting edge, her eyes tracing the academy like one assessing the viability of an investment.

Lagan nodded with refined composure.

"Judging from the heavy concentration of dark energy in this area, it's almost certain he's here," he answered.

"This is the most accurate intel we've received so far. Let's hope it's reliable."

Ramla let out a small, amused grin.

"Funny, isn't it? After failing to persuade that man to hand over his artifact, now we're tasked with persuading a shaman instead."

Baso slid both hands into his cloak pockets—body relaxed, eyes casually wandering.

"Hahaha, true. At this rate, they might transfer us to the Human Relations Division."

Lela exhaled thinly—graceful yet edged with a refined contempt.

"Enough. Keep the jokes to yourselves. This is a direct order from Lady Axis."

Lagan nodded in agreement.

"Remember, this is not a mission where carelessness can exist. One mistake and we're done for. Don't slip up."

His tone remained even, but the weight behind his words tightened the air around them.

"We must establish a positive connection with him. He's an essential factor for us."

Ramla and Baso exchanged glances, the realization finally sinking deeper.

Both nodded firmly. Cold sweat trickled down Ramla's temple, blending with sweat brought on by the pounding heat from above.

"Understood," the two replied simultaneously.

Cella, silent from the beginning, also nodded.

"Correct."

A brief silence lingered until Ramla spoke again.

"If he refuses… or loses his temper with us? What then?"

Lagan didn't answer immediately. He gazed toward the academy for a long moment before finally responding in a composed, almost gentle voice.

"We must minimize the chances of combat. Our mission only requires that we establish contact with him. Nothing more."

He then retrieved an item from inside his cloak.

"But relax… he won't refuse the Goddess' request. Whatever Lady Axis desires will eventually land in her hands—whether sooner… or later."

A faint smile curved at his lips.

The others looked at the object and mirrored his grin. Confidence washed over their expressions.

Lagan returned the item to his pocket and faced them with renewed readiness.

"Then let us move."

The others nodded without hesitation.

And in the next breath, their figures vanished from the spot.

---

On the coastal side, beneath the shade of a once-lush tree whose leaves had long since surrendered to dryness and brittleness, Pita stood in vigilant silence.

Her entire figure was nearly impossible to perceive with the naked eye, reduced to a faint, shimmering distortion in the air—an elusive ripple indicating the location of her stealth mode.

Even so, anyone sensitive enough and standing close would still faintly perceive the distinct scent of Pita's energy—light, swift, and agile.

Yet not fully matured to match the caliber required to confront a high-rank intruder.

But her ready posture sharply contrasted the internal storm of irritation swirling in her chest.

She was grumbling in her heart about the blistering, overbearing sunlight that felt almost vindictive today.

And she still hadn't forgiven Kian and Bata for deceiving her about Al's supposed presence on this mission.

In the end, Al did not show up at all.

Adding to her annoyance was the persistent wind—fast, dry, and abrasive.

The wind carried waves of heat and a cutting sting that felt as though it intended to peel the skin off any living creature foolish enough to stand under its path.

All of it boiled into a simmering frustration.

She muttered in her heart.

Huff… It's scorching. The sun is absolutely unreasonable today… she complained silently, as if the entire coastline had collectively agreed to transform itself into a colossal frying pan.

She sharpened her focus on the holographic interface visible only through her optical device.

Lines, symbols, and soft flickering indicators danced in her display, showing the movements of Fatar and Rayan as the two infiltrated the academy.

Hopefully they won't take too long in there… she lamented.

The longer they stay inside, the longer I have to roast out here—accompanied by a tree that looks like it has already given up on life.

And inevitably, her thoughts circled back to the source of her irritation since earlier: Kian and Bata. Two supposedly professional comrades who had given her false hope.

Heartless… absolutely heartless, Pita sighed soundlessly. Saying the master would come… Arghh… I still can't get rid of this frustration.

Fortunately, her annoyance didn't disrupt her professionalism. She remained perfectly stable in her stealth and continued monitoring the section of the academy she was responsible for.

But then—

She abruptly detected an unnatural surge of energy racing toward her.

Something fast and dark came from behind, sending a jolt of panic through her.

BRAKK!

The violent burst of energy struck the side of the tree and obliterated part of its trunk.

Pita reacted instantly. She leapt away just before the attack reached her position, landing smoothly several meters from where she had been—still cloaked within her stealth.

She examined the aftermath of the attack, an attack potent enough to kill her if she had reacted even a fraction too slow.

The blast had carved a massive cavity into the tree trunk, resembling the bite mark of an invisible giant.

Residual energy lingered in the air—sharp, abrasive, and carrying the signature of someone far from ordinary.

Someone attacked me? she murmured internally.

Not because she doubted the fact, but because she couldn't believe someone had detected her stealth, much less targeted her so accurately.

Her eyes scanned the surroundings until she caught sight of several brown-robed figures not far away.

They are…?! she wondered. The members of Ordo Ferox? Why are they here?

And indeed, Lagan and the others had arrived in the very area where Pita had been monitoring.

Despite her stealth being above average for common standards, the members of Ferox were still able to sense her presence—or, to be more precise, detect it.

"I don't know who you are, using stealth around here..." Lela said, her tone sharp and cold.

"...but if you're affiliated with the shaman hiding in that academy, we have several questions to ask you."

Pita immediately realized the situation.

Ah… they can detect me. But they can't see me and don't know who I am. she thought, weighing her options. Hmph… What should I do now?

When she didn't respond immediately, Lela spoke again,

"Or… are you perhaps affiliated with a different party, spying around this place?" she asked directly, without any hesitation.

Hearing that, Pita stiffened slightly. She decided to reply.

"Who I am and what business I have here—how is that any concern of yours?" she answered without revealing herself.

"And on top of that, you already attacked me without even knowing who I am!" she added, attempting to sound firm.

Her voice was deliberately disguised by the magical mechanism embedded in her uniform.

Her words came through clearly, but the timbre was distorted—more like a monster's filtered tone than that of a human.

Anyone trying to guess her identity or even her gender would struggle immensely.

Unfortunately for her, despite the distortion, a faint vibration still leaked into her voice—whether due to her natural speaking manner or the subtle pressure she felt.

Lela and Lagan caught that small tremor. They assumed the invisible figure might be feeling threatened by their presence.

Even so, they kept a relaxed posture, choosing to follow the flow for now.

"We truly have no business with you," Lagan said. "We only wish to ask a few questions, in case you know anything about what happened at that academy."

Lela nodded.

"And we apologize for being impulsive earlier. But someone activating stealth in a suspicious place like this… wouldn't you be cautious too?"

Pita found their reasoning ridiculous.

She knew well that this impulsive attack was nothing more than the barbaric habit of Ordo Ferox's subordinates, who were notoriously fond of causing trouble through violence.

Her gaze drifted to one particular figure in the group—someone she recognized instantly. A slim man with black hair streaked with purple highlights. Baso.

Baso. So he's here too. It's been a while since I last saw him, she thought.

Hmph… but I need to deal with this first.

She responded again,

"I'll overlook it. If you truly have no business with me, then we should not interfere with one another. Continue whatever it is you intend to do."

The five exchanged glances before all of them curved their lips into faint, amused smiles.

"Ah… you do have a point," Lela said.

"But… shouldn't you already know certain things about this place?" she pressed, her tone firm—bordering accusation.

Pita maintained her stance.

"Whether I do or don't know anything doesn't matter. We'd better avoid getting in each other's way. I don't want trouble with any of you."

Lagan and Lela exchanged brief looks, realizing they needed something from this hidden figure.

In their minds, obtaining additional information before approaching the shaman was far more advantageous than confronting him blindly.

And based on their assumption, this unseen individual should already possess more knowledge than they did.

Behind the group, Baso felt an unexpected flicker of familiarity rising within him—an oddly specific resonance triggered by the way the invisible figure spoke.

Almost as though he were listening to the muffled complaints of someone he had grown rather accustomed to hearing in the past.

Lagan and Lela were preparing to advance, but Baso stepped forward before either of them could move.

"Wait—hold on a second!" he called out firmly.

His tone was sharp enough to make everyone shift their attention toward him at once.

Pita stared in his direction, feeling a twinge of discomfort twist in her chest, but she remained silent, refusing to give anything away.

Baso, however, smiled—soft, confident, almost annoyingly sure of himself—as if his instincts were whispering the identity of the hidden individual directly into his ear.

"You're… that girl, aren't you?" he asked.

Pita subconsciously took half a step back, utterly startled that Baso could recognize her so easily.

Especially when she had done absolutely nothing suspicious that could have revealed her identity.

"W-What do you even mean by that?" she stammered.

The others exchanged confused looks.

"You know who she is?" Lagan asked, his expression tightening.

Baso did not answer immediately. He simply smiled again—a knowing, slightly mischievous smile. Then, without warning, he pressed both palms together in front of his chest.

Skill: Poison Ropes — Bind!

Everyone jolted at the sudden activation of a high-level skill, the abruptness of the movement forcing them into alarm.

Pita, too, was caught off guard.

From multiple directions, emerging ominously from beneath the sand, blackish-purple ropes sprouted.

Each rope coated in thick, viscous streaks of toxic greenish-yellow liquid, dripping and hissing faintly as if eager to dissolve whatever they touched.

Reflexively, Pita leapt upward, the air above her being the only safe space available. But the ropes twisted, writhed, and chased after her with relentless intent.

Arghh… damn it! she cursed in her mind.

And just as the venom-laden ropes were about to coil around her—

Skill: Purify Flash Slash.

Pita forcibly exited her stealth mode. From her fingertips all the way to her forearms, an intense surge of greenish, purifying energy erupted forth.

With a single swift motion, she unleashed a slashing technique.

Her hand glowing with concentrated healing force—cutting through the incoming ropes, cleansing the poisonous air around her, and nullifying the toxic particles that attempted to cling to her skin.

A technique designed specifically to eradicate poison in the air or across any object she struck.

Her velocity generated a sharp, resounding whip of wind across the area as the ropes were severed and Baso's attack was halted.

Pita descended and landed smoothly on the ground, now fully visible—no longer cloaked in stealth.

Even though her entire body was concealed beneath her uniform—her face hidden behind a mask, optical gear, and a hood—her silhouette, her posture, and her aura were unmistakable to Baso.

"I knew it… I absolutely knew it was you, Pita," he murmured, clearly pleased to have confirmed his guess.

Lagan and the others tensed, caught off guard by the revelation that the invisible intruder belonged to Al's faction.

"You're a subordinate of Hell Phoenix!" Lagan declared sharply.

Instantly, the five spread out, repositioning themselves into a tight, precise formation—maintaining stable distance while subtly encircling Pita.

Pita surveyed the group before her, irritation simmering beneath her calm exterior, but her stance had already shifted into full combat readiness.

As though a battle were inevitable.

"I didn't expect any of you to be able to detect me," Pita muttered with faint nervousness as she glared at the encroaching figures.

"And you…" she added, directing a pointed look at Baso. "…being able to recognize me that easily—what a freak!" she grumbled resentfully.

Baso only responded with a light, unbothered smile.

And the atmosphere tightened—thick, tense, and electric—as though a hopelessly one-sided battle was about to erupt at any moment.

---

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