The Aetherian ship hovered just above the edge of a vast plain, its sleek, glowing hull shimmering faintly in the daylight. The hum of its power resonated across the clearing, creating a faint vibration in the air.

From the east, a column of Concord horseback riders approached, their banners snapping sharply in the wind. At their head rode a stern woman clad in polished silver robes, her posture rigid with authority. On either side of her were three elite warriors, their ceremonial armor gleaming in the sunlight. Each carried a unique weapon; blades, spears, and staffs etched with intricate runes denoting their status as some of the Concord’s finest.

The woman reined in her horse as they neared the ship, its towering form casting an imposing shadow over the envoy. The warriors flanking her stopped in unison, their disciplined movements a testament to their training.

Erik stood at the base of the ship’s ramp, his crimson eyes calm but sharp as they scanned the group. Flanking him were Vesper and Berndhardt, their stances casual but watchful.

The woman dismounted with practiced ease, her boots crunching against the ground as she strode forward. Her tone was measured but firm as she addressed Erik.

“Erik Marlowe,” she began, her voice carrying across the plain.

“I am Envoy Kaelara, representing the Concord. We have come to discuss the threat you’ve uncovered and how we might address it.”

Her words were formal, but there was a faint edge to her tone; a hint of skepticism.

Erik inclined his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

“Envoy Kaelara,” he replied.

“I assume the fighters at your side aren’t here just to deliver messages.”

Kaelara’s lips twitched, almost into a smirk, but her composure held firm.

“The Concord takes its security seriously. These are my personal guard, among the finest warriors the capital has to offer.”

At this, one of the warriors, a tall man with a longsword strapped across his back, let out a low chuckle.

“Finest in the land,” he said, his voice carrying a smug confidence.

“And here to see what makes an Aetherian worth all this fuss.”

Berndhardt’s grin widened, and he leaned closer to Erik.

“This one’s going to be fun,” he murmured.

Erik didn’t take his eyes off Kaelara.

“And what exactly do you hope to accomplish here, Envoy?”

Kaelara stepped closer, her silver robes catching the faint glow of the ship.

“Our purpose is twofold. First, to understand the nature of this… eldritch threat you’ve described. And second, to evaluate the capabilities of you and your... team.”

Erik’s gaze flicked briefly to the smirking warrior, then back to Kaelara.

“Evaluate? Or test?”

Kaelara’s eyes narrowed faintly.

“Let’s not mince words. There are many within the Concord who question whether one man, even an Aetherian, can make a difference against such a threat.”

Berndhardt stepped forward, his axe resting casually on his shoulder.

“Lucky for you, we’ve got more than just one man,” he said cheerfully.

“And we’re more than happy to show you what we’re capable of.”

Kaelara glanced at Berndhardt, her expression unreadable.

“Is that so?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Berndhardt replied, his grin widening.

“But I have to warn you. Your ‘finest’ might not enjoy the lesson.”

The man with the longsword raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, its teaching time? Brave. How about a little sparring match? Just to get a sense of what we’re dealing with.”

Berndhardt sauntered down the ramp, his axe propped lazily over one shoulder and a lute slung across his back. His grin was as wide as ever, and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Berndhardt,” Erik said, glancing at him.

“Don’t worry,” Berndhardt replied, waving a hand.

“I’ll handle these strutting peacocks.”

The longsword fighter bristled.

“And who’s this? Your cheerleader?”

Berndhardt’s grin didn’t waver as he unslung his lute, holding it with surprising delicacy. He adjusted the chords, plucking a few notes to test the tune, his actions unhurried, almost ceremonial.

The guards exchanged glances, one of them scoffing under his breath.

“Came here to talk, and instead, we get a concert.”

Another guard chuckled.

“I wonder if green-eyes up there is going to join in for a dance? Wouldn’t mind seeing her move.”

The smirk on his face vanished as Kaelara turned sharply, her cold glare silencing him. He looked down, muttering an apology, but the damage was done. Berndhardt’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he strummed the lute, clearly having heard the comment.

Berndhardt started to play a slow, deliberate tune, each note hanging in the air with weight and purpose. Erik and Vesper exchanged curious glances as the melody shifted, growing faster and more intense. It wasn’t just music; it was magic. The rhythm seemed to pulse through the air, energizing everything it touched.

Erik’s system chimed unexpectedly:

Warrior’s Embrace Buff Received: +15 to All Stats for 30 Minutes.

Vesper blinked, feeling the subtle surge of power coursing through her veins.

“Is it just me, or is he turning this into something more than a performance?”

Erik smirked faintly. “It’s Berndhardt. He always has an encore.”

As the song reached its crescendo, Berndhardt suddenly vanished from where he stood, reappearing crouched in front of one of the guards. The man barely had time to react before Berndhardt clapped his hands together with a thunderous force. The sound rippled outward in a visible shockwave, sending three of the guards flying backward, their bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds and remained there groaning.

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The remaining three guards drew their weapons, their eyes narrowing as they activated their magic. One’s blade ignited with flames, another’s spear crackled with arcs of electricity, and the third summoned a shimmering barrier of protective energy around himself.

Berndhardt rose slowly, his grin widening as he unslung his massive silver axe. The weapon gleamed in the sunlight, its size almost comically large compared to anything the guards wielded. The tension thickened as he spun the axe effortlessly in one hand, the air seeming to hum with its latent power.

The first guard charged, his flaming blade cutting through the air in a wide arc. Berndhardt sidestepped gracefully, his movements deceptively quick for his size. With a single swing of his axe, he met the blade, the weapon shattering into shards as the axe’s magic briefly amplified its weight upon impact.

The second guard lunged with his electrified spear, aiming for Berndhardt’s midsection. Berndhardt twisted, his axe carving through the spear’s shaft with a sharp crack, sending sparks flying. The guard stumbled back, his weapon useless.

The third guard hesitated behind his shimmering barrier, his confidence clearly shaken.

“That’s not fair!” he barked, pointing at the massive axe.

“Without that weapon, this would be a fair fight!”

Berndhardt laughed heartily, his voice carrying across the plain.

“Fair? You want fair?” He hefted the axe and tossed it toward the guards.

“Here. Let’s see how fair you think it is.”

The guards instinctively reached to catch the axe as it tumbled toward them, but the moment it landed in their grasp, Berndhardt activated its magic. The axe’s weight multiplied instantly, pinning all three guards to the ground with a resounding crash. They groaned, struggling futilely to lift the weapon, their earlier bravado crushed under its sheer mass.

Berndhardt strode over leisurely, pulling a flask of Viking Blood from his belt. He took a long, exaggerated swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You’re right,” he said, his grin devilish.

“Without the axe, it’s definitely fairer…for me.”

The guards squirmed beneath the axe, their expressions shifting between frustration and disbelief. Kaelara’s sharp gaze remained fixed on Berndhardt, though even she couldn’t entirely mask her surprise at the ease with which he had dismantled her elite fighters.

From the ship’s ramp, Erik and Vesper watched the scene unfold. Vesper shook her head, a mix of disbelief and amusement on her face.

“You know, we really need to spar with him one of these days. He’s full of surprises.”

Erik nodded, his crimson eyes following Berndhardt as he casually retrieved his axe from the defeated guards.

“I think we’d lose,” he said dryly.

Vesper smirked. “Yeah, but it might be fun to try.”

Berndhardt swung the axe effortlessly onto his shoulder, turning back to the remaining members of the envoy. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he took another swig from his flask.

“Well,” he said, his tone light and mocking, “anyone else feeling ‘fair’ enough to have a go?”

The guards who remained standing wisely stepped back, their confidence shattered. Kaelara’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing, her mind clearly working to recalibrate her approach.

Berndhardt turned to Erik and Vesper, his grin unrepentant.

“Consider that a warm-up.” He winked at Kaelara.

“If you have anything better, feel free to let me know. I’ll be waiting.”

Kaelara stood motionless for a moment, her sharp eyes fixed on Berndhardt’s retreating form as he disappeared into the ship. The tension that had settled over the grassy plain hung thick in the air, the reality of the situation sinking in for her and the remaining guards. Everything she had heard about Erik Marlowe and his crew; their prowess, their overwhelming capabilities; was not just true. It had been understated.

Kaelara adjusted her robes with a deliberate motion, smoothing the fabric as she turned her attention to Erik, who remained at the base of the ramp. His crimson eyes studied her with quiet intensity, his stance calm and unthreatened. Vesper stood just behind him, her expression neutral but alert.

Without waiting for an invitation, Kaelara began walking up the ramp toward the ship. Her guards, unsure of what to do, stayed rooted to the ground, exchanging uneasy glances.

Vesper shot a questioning look at Erik, one eyebrow raised as if silently asking, Are you going to let her do this?

Erik responded with a faint shrug, his expression unreadable. Won’t hurt us, his body language seemed to say. Vesper rolled her eyes slightly, muttering under her breath,

“Fine.”

Kaelara ascended the ramp with measured steps, her silver robes catching the faint glow of the ship’s light. She didn’t hesitate, her composure intact despite the clear power disparity she had just witnessed. As she reached Erik, she stopped, inclining her head slightly in acknowledgment.

“I see now,” Kaelara began, her voice steady but carrying a tone of reluctant respect.

“The reports of what you did last night were not exaggerated. In fact, I believe they may not have captured the truth at all.”

Erik tilted his head slightly, his tone calm. “You sound surprised.”

Kaelara folded her hands in front of her, her gaze unwavering.

“Surprised, no. Enlightened, perhaps. I’ve dealt with many exceptional individuals in my time, but you and your team… are in a class of your own.”

Vesper snorted softly, her arms crossing over her chest. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

Kaelara glanced at Vesper but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she turned back to Erik.

“If we’re to address the eldritch threat together, it’s clear that your expertise far exceeds anything the Concord can offer. I’ll admit, I came here to evaluate you to determine if you were a viable ally. Now, I see that we are the ones in need of your cooperation.”

Erik stepped aside, motioning for her to continue up the ramp and into the ship. Kaelara nodded and ascended, her demeanor composed but her eyes betraying her curiosity as she entered the vessel. The stark contrast between the elegant, ancient Aetherian design and the mundane architecture of the Concord’s capital was not lost on her.

Inside the ship, the hum of its power was more pronounced, the glowing runes along the walls pulsating faintly as if alive. Kaelara paused, taking in the sight before her with a faint frown of wonder.

“You walk into an Aetherian ship without hesitation,” Erik said from behind her.

“Most people would be intimidated.”

Kaelara glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Most people don’t have as much to lose as I do if we fail to contain this threat.”

Erik studied her for a moment, then gave a faint nod.

“Fair enough.”

***

Kaelara followed Erik into the navigation chamber, where the translucent map of the region still hovered above the central console, glowing faintly. The remnants of green energy marking the eldritch spread pulsed across the map, their malevolence unmistakable.

She stopped short, her breath catching as she took in the full scope of the infestation.

“I didn’t realize it was this extensive…”

“Few do,” Erik replied, his voice measured.

“The Concord’s been too busy with its games of power to notice what’s been festering beneath its feet.”

Kaelara’s gaze lingered on the map.

“You think this is the result of negligence?”

“I know it is,” Erik said bluntly.

“You’re only here now because the threat’s become too big to ignore.”

Kaelara didn’t argue. Instead, she turned to face Erik, her expression firm.

“And yet, here I am. Willing to work with you, despite our… differences.”

Vesper leaned against the wall, watching the interaction with a faint smirk. “Differences, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

Kaelara ignored her, focusing on Erik.

“You may not trust the Concord, and I don’t expect you to. But I’m not here to represent their arrogance. I’m here because the survival of the capital and the people in it depends on this.”

Erik crossed his arms, his gaze steady.

“And what exactly do you expect from me?”

Kaelara hesitated, then gestured toward the map.

“This. Your knowledge. Your ship. Whatever it is that lets you see and fight this enemy in ways no one else can. If we’re going to have any hope of stopping this, we need you.”

Erik exchanged a glance with Vesper, whose expression was skeptical but intrigued. He turned back to Kaelara, his tone even.

“We’ll help. But on our terms.”

Kaelara’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded.

“Understood. What’s your first move?”

Erik stepped forward, his hand brushing the console as the map shifted, zooming in on the densest concentration of eldritch energy.

“We’re going to start by showing you just how bad this infestation really is.”

Kaelara’s brow furrowed as she examined the area. It was marked as a bustling district of the capital—a place of markets, homes, and people.

“That’s... heavily populated,” she said cautiously. “Are you suggesting we walk directly into an infestation zone?”

“Yes,” Erik said bluntly.

“You’ve seen the map. You’ve seen what the eldritch has done to your guards. But you haven’t felt it. Not yet. If we’re going to work together, you need to understand what we’re dealing with. Fully.”

Vesper straightened from where she’d been leaning against the wall, her eyes narrowing.

Erik put his hand up to stop Vesper from speaking. “They need to see it. They need to see what happens when the eldritch corruption is exposed for what it really is; and what it’s capable of and how to handle it.”

Kaelara inhaled deeply, steeling herself. “Very well. If this is what it takes to understand the threat, then we’ll do it.”

Erik nodded, turning to the console. With a few deliberate motions, he marked their destination on the map. The ship’s hum deepened, its runes glowing brighter as it prepared to descend toward the city.

As Kaelara moved to leave, Erik’s voice stopped her.

“One last thing.”

She turned, her brow arching slightly.

“Once we’re in the zone,” Erik said, his gaze intense,

“stay close to me. When the eldritch starts to react, it won’t discriminate. You’ll see exactly why people like your guards don’t survive encounters with it.”

Kaelara’s jaw tightened, but she nodded.