Leaving the Plaguelands behind, Ethan flew hard and fast due north, cutting through the sky like a black arrow.

"Where are we headed, bro? That Advanced-tier fortress on the western border?" Lyla shouted, her voice barely carrying over the roaring wind.

"Yep, let's go crack that shell first!" he yelled back.

As they sliced through the air at full speed, Ethan opened a call to Victor. The report came back quickly, Victor and his team still had some distance to cover. Hearing that, Ethan finally relaxed, easing off and shifting into a steady, energy-efficient glide.

"Just the two of us, plus Victor's guys… can we really take an Advanced Fortress?" Lyla asked, her tone hesitant now that the initial excitement had faded.

Back when she still had her Forbidden spell ready, she had not thought twice. She did not even know its exact damage output at the time, but Ethan had said, let's try, and with only the two of them involved, the risk had been low. If it failed, they could simply retreat and laugh it off.

This time was different.

Ethan was mobilizing dozens of people, splitting them into multiple teams and coordinating movements across regions. Failure now would not just sting, it would burn resources, especially the steep teleportation costs involved in moving so many people around. A mistake would not be cheap.

"Of course we can," Ethan replied easily, a grin clear in his voice. "Your Ethie's a man with… very big toys." He finished with an intentionally suggestive chuckle.

It took Lyla a second to process it. When she did, she huffed in annoyance, but a smile crept onto her face anyway. The fact that he was joking told her everything she needed to know. Ethan had a plan, which meant she could stop worrying.

Even at a glide, their speed was still impressive. Flying from the southwest toward the north, they passed over numerous fortresses, many of them already under siege. Below them, guild banners clashed and spells flashed, the land around Harmony City alive with chaos and ambition. Level 6 guilds were scrambling to secure their first real footholds, throwing themselves into battle wherever they saw an opening.

It was nothing like the grim regions of Springhaven and Blackridge.

Over there, aside from the Blade Syndicate's relentless expansion, there was little real movement. Most of the activity came from scattered, desperate guilds resisting Zachary's attempts to absorb them, making half-hearted efforts to capture Starter Fortresses as a last stand.

The Nocturne Order in Blackridge was an exception.

A guild composed entirely of Rogues, they were, understandably, struggling to find momentum.

Yet their leader stood in stark contrast to her anxious subordinates. A woman blessed with a bombshell figure and a face that turned heads without trying, Xandria appeared utterly calm. When her members pressed her for answers, she simply waved them off with lazy confidence.

"What's the rush? We're waiting."

Only Xandria knew what they were waiting for.

She and Ethan had reached a private understanding, nothing formal, nothing written down. In the past, she would have been pacing by now, nerves fraying as time dragged on. But after running alongside Ethan for so long, she had learned to trust his chaotic approach. If he said wait, then waiting was the right move.

She was waiting for his signal.

The last time they had met, along with Markham, Ethan had laid out the outline of a plan in a private conversation. Only four people knew the full details, Ethan, Markham, Xandria, and a mysterious fourth individual Ethan had mentioned in passing. Xandria had no idea who that person was, and she had not asked. Trusting Ethan meant accepting what he chose not to explain.

Following his instructions, she had gathered the entire guild and held them in readiness, doing nothing but waiting.

Claiming she was not nervous would have been a lie. But nervousness accomplished nothing. The Nocturne Order was Level 6 and legally cleared to siege fortresses, yet an all-Rogue roster was a terrible match for direct assaults. In the end, all her hopes rested on Ethan's plan working as promised.

---

On the western edge of Harmony City's territory, pressed right up against the shimmering veil of the regional barrier, an Advanced Fortress rose from the land like a slab of iron. High above it, a tiny black speck hovered in the sky, so small it would have gone completely unnoticed by anyone below.

Ethan had already been there for several minutes.

Victor's latest message confirmed they were almost in position. With that reassurance, Ethan slowly descended, stopping just outside the fortress's anti-air detection radius and holding his altitude.

"So, what's the plan this time?" Lyla asked, her voice buzzing with curiosity. Ethan's schemes were never predictable, and that was half the fun.

Ethan only grinned in response and sent her a trade window.

Row after row filled her vision, neatly stacked crates packed to the brim with black powder bombs.

"This many… you're going to…!" Lyla's eyes went wide as the trade window kept filling.

"Bingo," Ethan chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

He continued transferring items until Lyla's inventory was packed to the brim, forcing her to accept the final crates. Only then did she fully understand why he had rushed to Plaguewood Valley in such a hurry. Her pack was overflowing with High-Explosive Black Powder Bomb crates, twenty bombs per crate. With over a hundred inventory slots that had been nearly empty before, she was now carrying enough firepower to level a small town.

Ethan's own inventory, of course, was a different story. Functionally infinite, and just as dangerous.

"Let's get this show on the road… hehe!" Ethan said, barely containing his excitement. The idea of becoming a one-man bomber squadron had clearly seized his imagination. Aerial bombardment was about to become very real.

"Wait…." Lyla's voice cut through his giddiness, sharp and urgent. "From this altitude, the fuse timers won't last long enough. The bombs will explode in mid-air before they even hit the ground. It'll just be fireworks."

"Uh…" Ethan's confident glide stalled, his mind hitting empty air. 'Shit. She's right.'

The bombs he had bought from Master Roger all used simple fuses. No timers. No delayed triggers. Dropping them from this height would look impressive, sure, but accomplish absolutely nothing. Lyla's words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over his plan.

'Damn it…'

He ran through possibilities in his head. Go back and redo every fuse? Find an Engineer willing to retrofit hundreds of bombs with timed detonators? With this many explosives, either option would eat up an absurd amount of time. The plan was dead in the water.

Or so he thought.

"Ethan…" Lyla spoke again, her voice steady now, almost excited. "What if I handle the bombing run, and you act as the ammo depot?"

"You?" Ethan blinked, genuinely caught off guard.

"Mmhmm." Lyla nodded once, then raised her voice. "Myrga, come on out!"

Whoosh!

A massive shape burst into existence beside Ethan, wings snapping open with a thunderous beat that sent violent gusts of wind crashing into him. He turned his head just in time to see it.

The pudgy little wyrmling was gone.

In its place hovered a full-grown dragon, its massive body rivaling the size of Ethan's Eagle Form, scales gleaming faintly as it stabilized itself in the air. Lyla leapt lightly from Ethan's back and landed on the dragon's neck with practiced ease, as if she had done it a thousand times before.

"Watch me, Ethie!" Lyla called out, flashing him a confident grin.

Ethan paused for half a second, then nodded. "Go for it."

He did not question her. If Lyla had a plan, he trusted her to see it through.

"We'll need to drop about five hundred meters lower, okay?" Lyla said, patting the dragon's head.

"Should be fine," the dragon replied, its voice deep and rumbling, yet still carrying an oddly youthful tone. Its massive eyes shifted downward, locking onto the fortress below.

"Don't make me look bad in front of Ethan!" Lyla added.

The dragon's head slowly turned, one enormous eye fixing on Ethan. It let out a dismissive sound.

"Pfft."

Ethan froze.

'Did it just…?'

Before he could process the insult, the dragon's massive form began to fade. Not with the shimmer or distortion of Stealth, but gradually, like a chameleon blending into its surroundings. Its scales dulled, its outline softened, until it nearly vanished against the open sky.

"Aerial Stealth? No, that's not it…" Ethan muttered, then his eyes widened as realization clicked. Lyla had mentioned this before.

'Color-changing camouflage.'

"Oh… I see."

His initial assumption about Stealth had been wrong, and even if it had been Stealth, it would not have helped. Any Advanced Fortress worth its name would have True Sight or anti-stealth measures integrated into its defenses. But this was different. This was not concealment through magic, but visual adaptation, blending into the sky itself.

And that made all the difference.

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