The environment around them was mostly made of flat fields with small hills peaking out here and there in the distance. The top of one such hill was currently under their feet, giving them a view over the terrain before them.

What a sad sight, John shook his head as his eyes roamed over the ruins of two villages. Despite his heightened senses, his lack of outdoor experience was making it difficult to judge their distance.

It reminded him of something that happened a couple of years ago. He was visiting his ex-girlfriend's hometown in the far north of the country, and they made a trip to a forest-covered hill in the area. The view that opened up when they reached the summit was breathtaking, but the following question of hers made it an even more enlightening experience.

"How far, do you think, is that rocky hill in the distance?" She asked.

"Hmm, I don't know," he remembered himself answering. "Maybe five… eight miles?"

There were two villages between it and him, forming a view not unsimilar to this one, and the hill seemed just a bit farther away.

"Nope, that hill is almost twenty-five miles away."

Pulling himself out of the memory, John reminded himself that he wasn't alone and could ask his companions about their current situation instead.

"Should we head toward the one on the left or stick to the northwest, clearing out only the one over there?" he pointed at the second ruin that stretched around the foot of the next hill.

"I'd say we do not waste time with unnecessary detours and press on. There will be enough Nests between us and the arena."

"Galan'il is right. Leaving our Sector early gave us the freedom to choose which Nests we want to clear, so why not use it." Dilah'ec agreed, cementing their decision.

There was actually a third village not that far off to the right and better yet, it was still standing. However, after yesterday's experience, he knew that visiting it would be pointless. Seeing the hope of the struggling survivors as his group gloriously walked in only for it to turn into a bitter helplessness not a couple of minutes later was not something he wanted to repeat anytime soon. Worse yet, he could understand their plight as they begged him to stay there and help them reinforce their Outpost, but all he had to offer was a tired shake of his head.

Sadly, there was no good alternative. He couldn't take the population of the entire Outpost with him nor would he pick one village at random and dedicate everything to it, abandoning his headstart and praying that everything somehow works out. No, they already made a plan and they were sticking to it. After finding the Hierarch's position, they would find the nearest town, take it over by slaying its Overlord, and only then briefly settle down and bolster their position to form a proverbial beachhead for their own Sector.

It took them twenty minutes to reach the edge of the ruins where they were forced to engage the wandering undead guarding the outer perimeter.

"Let's go around that large building over there," Galanil pointed to the half-collapsed rubble of what used to be a concrete warehouse.

Following the idea, John refocused his minions on the undead roaming in that direction until they reached the jagged wall with bits of bent metal reinforcements sticking out.

What a mess, he thought, sliding his palm over a deep fracture spreading all over it like a massive spider web.

Using the structure to cover their flank, they carefully circled around it only to be greeted by an off-putting sight. The center of the village was filled with grayish soil and eerily empty.

"Ehh, shouldn't there be some sign of the Nest?" John asked in confusion.

"It seems odd," Galan'il agreed. "Let's get inside, but be careful. My guess is that the Nest is buried underground."

Playing it safe, they dispatched all the zombies and hounds in their vicinity before stepping over the border and onto the soft ground.

"Watch your feet," Galan'il whispered, gently tapping the tip of his foot over the Nest's ground. "It seems firm enough to hold our weight, but…"

Trusting him, John followed, leaving Dilah'ec a couple of feet behind them. After all, where he lacked the training of the Knight-Protectors he made it up with higher attributes and a ludicrous combination of body-modification cards.

Did the temperature drop? He wondered after feeling a sudden chill rush through him.

While making sure to gently probe the soil before planting each step the annoying cold was slowly worming its way into his body. Like that, they continued heading toward the center, yet the only offending part was the unnatural cold.

"S-something is wr-wrong," Dilah'ec suddenly stammered behind him, making him sharply turn around and notice her pale face and lips with a light sheen of blue.

What the…

"Run!" Galan'il screamed, moving toward her in three rapid strides and catching her by her pale arm. "John, help me carry her."

It took a moment for him to understand the desperate urgency in Galan'il's voice, but then he rushed to her grasped her by her waist, and unceremoniously tossed her over his shoulder in a typical fireman's carry.

"I got her, but what is going on?"

As if on cue, the coldness that was accumulating in his body flared up, almost making him drop the shivering woman slung over him. At the same time, Galan'il stumbled and fell on one knee, but then his body covered itself in yellow light and he pushed himself up.

"Get h-her out of h-here," he stammered, half jogging and half limping behind him. "I'll get out on my own, go!"

That was when a translucent arm reached out through the soil and tried to grasp his ankle. Luckily, his heart was beating like a drum, keeping his senses sharp and his body warm. Because of that, he easily reacted in time and leaped over it. Watching the appendage flail under him and then collapse on itself like a wave that reached the shore.

More hands followed after it, forcing him into a split decision about how to proceed.

Lightning strike!

Closing his eyes for a brief moment his Wisp sent a bolt into a pair of ghostly hands barring his path and running over them, he noticed blackened scars now crisscrossing the entire lengths of their forearms before they once again fell into the ground.

"Use the Flameling," Galan'il wheezed behind him, seeming short of breath.

Glancing over his shoulder, John realized that the young Knight-Protector was struggling much more than him. Both of his legs were marred by pale-blue palm prints and his jog was now more desperate and awkward.

Clear out a path for him, he sent a command to his Purifying Flameling and continued running out.

His brief lapse of attention allowed the next hand to grab onto his thigh and inject a chilling sensation that was spreading through his skin and seeping into his muscles. Luckily the form of attack proved almost futile as he felt his grey blood retaliate in kind and reheat all his affected tissues into normal body temperature.

A whoosh of billowing flames rushed over his shoulder and for the first time, the eerie silence was pierced by an inhuman screech.

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Pressing his ear into Dilah'ec's side, he took a second glance behind him and finally spotted their assailant. It was a ghost-like silhouette wailing in agony and desperately patting its hands over its ethereal chest to douse the blue flames sticking to it.

[Restless Phantom {E⋆}]

It gave them a little over five precious seconds where the other Phantoms pulled away from their burning brethren, but the moment the wails fell silent and the monster collapsed into a blue ball of ash, the assault resumed with a vengeance. Despite the crackling flames, over a dozen other ghosts relentlessly attacked John's legs and back.

At least they are staying away from Galan'il, he thought, gritting his teeth and doing his best to reach the end of the Nest's area of influence.

The most important thing is to not let a single hand reach her.

Like that, he willingly offered his flesh to the overwhelming number of hands, yet managing to keep the cooling body of his first true companion always far enough from their chilling grasps.

Between one desperate moment and the next, he felt as if he emerged from the freezing water of his favorite sauna pool.

Taking a long breath of warm air to appreciate the pleasant temperature, he watched Galan'il stumble out and collapse onto the rough pavement.

"W-warmth," he stammered. "N-need w-warth."

Fuck, how could I…

Looking around, he couldn't spot anything useful. It was only the rubble and bits of broken roof tiles.

Damn, where can I get something flammable?

As his eyes desperately roamed over the useless piles and collapsed houses, he figured out where. Opening his archway, he ran into his Bastion and a few seconds later dragged out the heavy wardrobe that used to house his latest bounty of clothes.

Tearing out the hinges, he broke the thick wooden door into several smaller pieces and set them aflame with the help of his Flameling.

Meanwhile, Galanil was holding an orange vial in his shaky hands and trying to pour its contents between Dilah'ec's blue lips.

"Is she…?" John asked with a shaky voice. With adrenaline no longer coursing through his body, he was weary and tired.

"She'll make it," Galan'il muttered. "She's a strong girl."

Feeling a pang of hunger brought his mind back into focus. "Would a hot meal help?"

"Yes!" The Knight-Protector shouted out, only recollecting himself after a moment and continuing speaking. "Please, get us a broth and a revitalizing tea."

"A revitalizing tea?" John asked, unsure what to ask for.

"The bartender will know what you need, please hurry."

Diving back through the archway, John was soon throwing open the weightless door of the Desperate Fool's Inn and rushing inside.

"Slayer of Gorax'thal, we need some hot broth and three portions of revitalizing tea," he yelled before even closing the doors behind him.

The youth's carefree attitude vanished and his hands blurred as he filled three containers with steaming liquid and then summoned three small glass bottles.

"Take it and go. If it is as urgent as I believe, I'll cover it for you and you'll pay me back on your next visit."

"Thanks, I… I appreciate it." He nodded, grabbing the tower made out of food containers and the three bottles, and ran out.

Jumping over the piles of clothes that he tossed out, he safely made it out without slipping and ran through the archway.

"I got it, what now?"

"The tea first. Give me two of them and drink the last. It will help counteract the Netherfrost."

"Netherfrost?" John asked, frowning at the familiar name as he opened the first bottle. "Here."

"Thanks," Galan'il grabbed the bottle and gently poured a small portion into Dilah'ec's mouth.

By now, she regained consciousness and was covered in a thick blanket and hunched over the crackling campfire.

"T-th-thank," she stammered, still shivering and unnaturally pale.

"About the Netherfrost, it is very similar to the pale-green flames we encountered from the Sector Overlord." Galanil began explaining after helping her drink the tea to its last drop. "Instead of burning you and your lifeforce, it weakens your body and as you can guess, it also saps your lifeforce away."

Opening his tea, he drank the sweet liquid in two gulps, feeling a wave of heat flow down to his stomach and quickly spread all over his body.

His ridiculous constitution must have protected him from the worst of it because by now he only felt a little tired but the weariness and something he now recognized as induced melancholy was gone.

Damn, that is insidious, he cursed as he figured out that there was also an emotional component to it. We were lucky that Dilah'ec was so much weaker than us. Otherwise, we might have walked deeper inside and not made it all out alive.

They ate the delicious broth in silence, leaving Dilah'ec next to the crackling fire until the last of its embers died down.

"We can't stay here," Dilah'ec pleaded after pushing herself up on her shaky legs. "Let's get out of this ruin and find a place to take a short rest. I… I don't think I can keep up with you otherwise," she winced, clearly bothered by the state of her body and feeling herself a burden.

"So, going back in there is a no?" John asked, but his joke fell flat. It was too soon and the Aerilian pair was too tired to appreciate it. "Sorry… Rest seems like a good idea."

"About that, I think I should lend you my ash," Galan'il spoke out, looking at Dilah'ec who was folding her blanket. "While this was an unfortunate situation, I believe it is time for you to take it and get the last attribute-booting card."

"Shouldn't she wait a little longer?" John asked, remembering his own evolution. "There is a reward for doing exceptional things before you…"

"We know, but she…" Galan'il fell silent, looking over at her with a questioning gaze.

"You see, my father taught me the possible set of requirements for a specific reward that our family deciphered over the centuries and I have already cleared all of them."

"Oh, that makes sense. Could I ask what kind of reward you are aiming for?"

Seeing her tired face morph into an uncomfortable expression, it dawned on him that he might have overstepped her boundary.

"That's not something to be shared lightly," she refused. "What if I asked you about the reward you chose? Would you tell us?"

"You are right," John apologized. "I was only trying to help by comparing it with the rewards I had available."

"Anyway, could you buy the uncommon single-use attribute boosting card for Strength?" Galan'il jumped in to change the topic. "Getting her to D-grade will also help with her recovery."

"Sure, it should be seven thousand two hundred… Wait, six thousand eight hundred. I forgot the five percent discount from the Sector trial."

"Woah, you also got the upgrade for Al'drul's Emporium," Dilahec muttered in awe.

Seeing the surprise their faces painted a small smile on his lips. "Yeah, I got lucky. Two cards for building promotion free of charge for being the second in the world to kill the Sector overlord."

"That makes it so much easier. Here take these," she pulled piles of white, blue, and yellow colors and put them into John's hands. "The remaining thirteen hundred will come from Galan'il."

After getting the rest, John observed the pair walk out of the ruins while he focused on resummoning his archway.

They are in even worse shape than they let on, he realized. Their slouched posture and shambling gait spoke much louder than the brave front they tried to put on during the quick meal.

Yeah, Galan'il is right. She really needs to get into D-grade before something irrevocable happens to her.

The difference between their body-modification cards was the reason why Galan'il was able to stand out in the front line and take the occasional hit or two. His cards bolstered his toughness, information gathering, and a little bit of self-healing, plus he used some secret combination of cards that was mandatory to all members of the Knight-Protector order. Dilah'ec, on the other hand, shared with him that she used cards specializing against mind intrusion and emotional manipulation, a broad self-recovery card, and a mix of epic rarity cards that apparently strengthened her ability to weave Fate. Sadly, she was forbidden to share any information about them because of an oathbinding to her father that forced her to keep the combination hidden.

Losing himself in thought, he walked through his bastion on autopilot and began pushing the gilded glass doors to the emporium wide open.

"Nice to see you, John. What brings you here today?" Al'drul greeted him with a mysterious smile on his face.

Huh, someone is looking like the cat that got the cream.

"What got you into such a good mood?"

"You know how it is," Al'drul waved his hands from side to side, "this and that. Well actually you don't," he chuckled. "Just something that recently blew up into some of the other Patron's faces."

"Right," John politely agreed, yet having no idea what the obsidian merchant was talking about. "Anyway, I need one uncommon attribute-boosting card for Strength. It should be six thousand eight hundred whites, right?"

"Indeed, indeed," Al'drul answered, still keeping the unnaturally wide smile on his bald head.

Finishing the transaction under the jovial atmosphere, John was soon on his way back.

It was time for Dilah'ec to step into the D-grade.