As Sylas and his team members entered their designated chambers, each of them began to explore and comment on the details of the place.

Machivel chuckled as he ran a hand over the luxurious furnishings.

"They certainly spared no expense here, didn’t they?" he said,

Suntuzel, standing by one of the tall, arched windows, nodded approvingly.

“The view alone speaks volumes. You’d think they want to keep us well-pampered to keep us from destroying anything.”

he said, glancing over at Sylas, who had already chosen the largest room for himself and was observing everything with a sharp eye.

Sylas smirked slightly as he surveyed his quarters, already beginning to make mental notes of the layout and potential entrances and exits.

"This will do," he said calmly, as if unimpressed.

After a few minutes, the group gathered in the common area, a spacious room with a massive table at its center.

It was here that Machivel took the lead, gathering everyone around and beginning his briefing.

“Right,” he started, his tone shifting.

“We’re currently stationed in the number seven zone. Each of these special chambers for the high-ranking groups is situated with a hundred meters between them to minimize, shall we say, ‘friction’ between certain parties.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly aware of the tension around himself.

“I should be careful what to say.” Machivel thought and then started.

"In our area alone, we’re separated from some of the other notable groups—Frost Elves, Dark Father, and others—by a hundred soldiers posted in the hallways."

"So, they’re not taking any chances with containment."

Warrent leaned back and started talking, adding to the words of Machivel.

"Good to know. It means we’re as safe for now."

Machivel nodded, continuing,

“For what it’s worth, they’ve done their homework. We’d be alerted well before anything escalated.”

Suntuzel folded his arms and looked at Machivel.

“So, we’re playing it safe? Or is this just part of the ‘polished experience’ they want us to have?”

He exchanged a knowing glance with Sylas, who seemed amused by the question.

Sylas, tilting his head thoughtfully, replied,

"It’s both, I’d wager. They want to keep appearances up but also prevent chaos from erupting onboard."

He leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk crossing his lips.

As they discussed, Sylas noticed the subtle glint in Machivel’s eyes, a sign that he was already formulating his own backup strategies.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Blue Hope, Level 10—Special Room 8 (Dark Father House Room)

-

In the dimly lit room, Rud’s eyes showed a clear wish to kill...

His long black hair, falling over his shoulders like a dark curtain, framed a confident, almost sinister smile.

“We’re going to make the Dark Father proud,” he declared.

Around him, the ten men nodded in silent agreement.

They knew what was at stake and what Rud’s success meant for them—and for the organization.

One of the men—a short woman with a fierce gaze—stepped forward. She addressed him respectfully.

“Lord Rud, when shall we begin?”

Rud looked at her, his smile widening.

“We’ll start in one week, Elizt,” he said, pausing for emphasis.

"Let’s observe the scene first and see what unfolds.”

The men exchanged knowing glances.

Elizt smiled at the response of her lord.

She worked with him for more than forty years now.

Compared to other special mages. She knew him the best.

She believed he would do whatever was necessary to complete the mission.

“He wants to see how the other factions would behave on board, to map their movements, to gauge potential allies and threats.”

Elizt thought as she touched her chin.

Just then, the door opened, and a line of servants entered, setting platters of food down on the long table in the center of the room.

Steaming dishes and colorful fruits appeared.

Rud took his seat at the head of the table and motioned for his mages to join.

As they settled, another mage, a tall man with a wiry frame, spoke up with a smirk.

“One week, then. Plenty of time to gather intel and gauge our prey.”

Rud chuckled.

“Exactly. We don’t go in blindly. Let them settle into their routines; let them think they’re secure. When we strike, they’ll never see it coming.”

He reached for a glass, raising it in a mock toast.

“To patience and precision.”

The others followed suit, raising their own glasses with dark smiles, drinking to the subtle promise of havoc.

-

Blue Hope, Level 10—Special Room 6 (Third Circle House Room)

-

Lady Veronica leaned back in her seat, swirling the wine in her glass as she smiled, watching her mages dig into the lavish meal.

Her long blonde hair shimmered in the dim candlelight, adding an almost ethereal quality to her composed demeanor.

Around her, her mages seemed eager, some stealing glances at her to gauge her thoughts, others already discussing potential moves.

Veronica’s gaze shifted as one of the men—a tall, wiry figure who had just finished his meal—spoke up.

“Lady Veronica,” he began, his voice thick with excitement.

"We, the Third Circle, are prepared to formulate a plan to take down those Frost Elves. Our people are getting impatient, waiting for the signal.”

Veronica let out a laugh.

She lifted her glass, taking a long sip before setting it down with a graceful clink.

“Wait for it,” she murmured, her voice authoritative.

She leaned forward, her eyes sharp.

“We don’t make the first move until this ship sets sail. Once we’re underway, we’ll take our time, feel out potential alliances, and decide who might be... persuaded to assist us.”

One of her younger men, a dark-haired man seated close to her, nodded eagerly.

“So you believe we should focus on alliances first, Lady Veronica?”

“Of course,” she replied smoothly.

“This ship isn’t just a vessel, Maxris. It’s a perfect opportunity to observe our rivals. Have fun while doing so, dont you think?"

The wiry mage who had first spoken looked thoughtful for a moment before grinning.

“Playing a long game, are we? I like it. Makes the chaos all the sweeter.”

Veronica’s eyes glittered as she smirked.

“The elves are only one piece on this board,” she said.

“Others will fall into place soon enough. And when they do, we’ll be prepared to strike decisively.”

They raised their glasses in silent toast to her words.