Val didn’t expect to return to an EC-room so soon.

Unsheathing the blade gifted by Instructor Hawke as a farewell, a ring reverberated. The sharp weapon flourished into her one-handed grasp, the other limb idle in case the need for a spell arose.

“Everyone ready?” a deep voice asked. She glanced back at the Kidraan and nodded.

Rick, to put it lightly, was an Alph among humans. A head-and-a-half taller than even Caro, his toned stature made him hard to miss no matter where he was. Prior to making it clear to the newcomers, Val didn't work hard to discern who sat at the head of the table.

“Alright, last one! Horned-Lizard Position!” He readjusted the links to his intricate armour, a set of cinnamon-coloured metal plates fluidly combined by clasps, worn over dark combat wear.

One of the other members must’ve heard the Bulwark's demand and with a flash of light, a trio of straw dummies popped up from the ivory floor. Sliding towards them on a moving axis, the training tools made for menacing enemies.

The Strikers split on the either side of Rick. His charmed cuffs expanded, chittering as it revolved around the mage's wrists. “Mobile Rock Ramparts!”

An earthy musk filled the air.

Three crumbling packed-dirt walls summoned themselves, screeching as they moved in tandem with their counterparts. Val trailed the fortification spell along its path, using the real estate of its cover until, well enough, the scarecrow-like stump rounded the elemental obstruction.

Flinging her forearm to parry the dummy’s headbutt—the arm guard absorbing most of the hit—she cut a swing from below. From its tapered feet to its stringy crown, a canyon yawned. The floor swallowed the defeated training tool and she paid no more mind to it, flipping around to survey how her friend was faring.

Caro cleaved the dummy in half with a mighty swing of her greataxe, its head flying across the room. Resting the polearm’s shaft on her shoulder, she scanned the horizons for the remaining enemy.

Like a sneaky mole, the last dummy rose from the ground at the rear. Val’s eyebrow arched and the actions that followed were little more than instinct. The ensign within blazed and the frames woven into her spell manifested as intended, draining her reserves. “Metal Spike!”

An ice-like talon emerged, spearing the dummy down its spine. Caro yelped at the wave of frozen moisture drifting in her direction, creeping past the armour-heavy suit she wore. “Frick that’s cold!”

Val snorted. “Is that a family-friendly cuss word?”

As the coldsteel spell whittled away into motes, the floor swallowed the tool into its storage and Caro glared at her. “Kind of in new company here, ‘Lore,” she said between unmoving lips. “As the wise Miss Peppers once so ever-wisely quoted, ‘first impressions are lasting impressions.’”

“You should be glad yours weren't bad, then.”

The glass barrier of the viewing room shifted away to allow the passage of the rest of the team, a lady of the Eastern Islands leading the pack. A midnight-brown braid tailed down to the ridge of her spine, emerald-green eyes narrowed as they passed over the girls.

The shock in Caro’s frozen stature was similar to Val’s own. She heard us from that far?

“And I must say,'' she continued, “you lot are at least three tiers better than the previous batch. Say what you want about Magus Hawke, she gets the job done.”

“Does that mean we can finally do introductions?” an Auricean asked. Ginger strands spilled from his beanie and his hands were snugly pocketed in his zip-up sweater. Lugging around two long tubes containing saints-knew-what, a tired hazel gaze roamed to the Saradonian lady at the inquiry.

“Dax’s beard,” Rick muttered, wide-eyed. A dark-skinned hand ruffled his curly hair, head shaved at the sides. “You guys didn’t introduce yourselves yet?”

Val could hardly see any features of the last member, brown hair a curtain obscuring all but his rosy complexion. He pointed to the lady in question. “Ask Silann, she held us off.”

“You little tattle tail,” Silann whispered in response, sighing at Rick's stern gaze. “Look, our previous temp fills didn’t last a second. Why waste air on introductions before we decide if they’re staying or not?”

“I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it,” the ginger began, “but human decency exists.”

“Aeron, I will rip your sarcastic tongue right out of your—”

“Enough.” Rick rubbed his brow, blue-eyed gaze flickering to his new members from above. “We’ve discussed this on the walk here. Any more of this and we’re running IBR demos.”

Silence reigned.

Val thought the squabble over, yet as she looked in between Aeron and Silann, she spotted a bipolar whirlpool switching directions at the tick of the clock. Left, right, left, faster to the left—jabbing swiftly to the right at Silann’s eyebrow twitch. The pool ripped itself apart and a humid breeze flowed past their silent group.

Silann grinned. “I won, hand it over.”

“Human decency,” Aeron muttered, passing along a remnant.

“Guys, seriously?” Rick shook his head, murmuring nonsensical things to himself. “Meet me at Guildhall street in ten. We leave in twenty.”

“You got it Cap.”

“Sure thing.”

“Understood.”

Fighting off the smile threatening to break out, Val held a tiny inkling the next four months in this squad would fly by in a blink.

----------------------------------------

Val couldn’t fathom how the intricacies of her armour functioned.

Ciazen winters bested indignant ghosts in stubbornness, its chill lingering until the end of the fourth month. None of it managed to penetrate the carbon fiber lining the exterior of the soft armour, the inner fur-coating leaving her wrapped in security. Steel covers protected her organs—chest plates, arm and shin guards—a light cloak completing the attire. Charlee’s taste is, as Caro would say, immaculate.

She snuck a yawn early in the morning, returning her attention from the fancy adventurer attire she’d gotten herself yesterday to the tollgate. Similar to the weather ward in outward appearance, a cover of blue made clear the boundaries of the city of Atera and the Copper-Rung rift, Ashless Forest. It curved around until it disappeared behind itself, the material as smooth as silk.

Beside the slit in the veil laid a brick booth—in the CAU’s colours of crimson accented by gold—and Val honed in on the conversation Rick was having with the associate inside.

“—you're a veteran adventurer, which makes my life a whole bunch easier. Just allow me to re-register your names alongside the noobs so I can document them. I’ll adjust the rest.”

The leader beckoned the group at his side at the wave of his hand, the command in the action alone almost inherent.

“Okay.” The associate raised a device resembling a tablet, lacking every feature save for the screen glass. He tapped on it and a crimson circle appeared. “Go.”

“Errick Landry, Novice mono-bound mage, Fifth-class Geo Bulwark. Captain.”

“Silann Haldar, Novice mono-bound mage, Fifth-class Air Support. Vice-captain.”

“Aeron Cote, Novice mono-bound mage, Fifth-class Water Anchor. Member.”

“Bo of the Third Halo, Novice mono-bound mage, Fifth-class Illusion Hunter. Member.”

The veteran teammates rattled off their ranks and titles as if a part of a song, leaving the remaining duo to stutter out something intelligible.

“Got it.” The guy swiped his finger to the side of the glass and the pulsing dot simmered into white. “Give it a few minutes, then you’re good to go from here on out.”

Rick led them to a space beside the tollgate as the group waited for the go-ahead. Her curious gaze roamed towards the slit in the veil, then across the barrier’s entire length. “Is that another weather ward? Didn’t know you needed to monitor it.”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Silann scoffed, summoning a book and throwing it. “That question is appalling.”

Enhanced cognitive abilities at work, Val caught the item flung at her, eyebrows raised. “You… you have a storage ring? And why do you have a book of all things? A book you’ve already read, too.”

“I’m well off,” she replied, answering the former implied question and not the latter.

Shrugging, Val cracked the book open, ready to scan through the text until a hand barred vision from the lines.

“Let me save you some time,” Aeron offered, grabbing the volume and gesturing for Caro to come nearer. “What is the most valuable thing within most, if not all rifts?”

“A rift core.”

“Definitely the core of a rift.”

The two answered back-to-back.

“Exactly, so why doesn’t everyone harvest those instead?”

“Well, if they did, they’d cause a rift rupture,” Caro said.

Aeron nodded. “No one wants all that bloodshed, so most simply shy away.”

“Most?” Val noticed the anomaly.

“Greed’s a scary emotion,” he said. “Once in a while, it does happen. When the occasion results in thousands of adventurer deaths—and thousands more in civilians should the Defenders not arrive on time, there’s a need to hold someone accountable.”

He pointed towards the tollbooth. “By registering your soul signature to your name, the veil surrounding the rift can tell who leaves and enters, as well as when. Usually, that’s all you need to figure out those culpable. Trust me, they’re always caught.”

Rick, after making eye contact with the tollgate attendant, spoke. “Let’s go.”

Aeron pried Silann's hands open and dropped the manual in her grasp as he passed by to enter. The Strikers shied away from the glare pinned at the Anchor’s back, hurrying to follow after him.

The lapis-blue curtain fell away and Val stepped into a new facet of the material plane as an adventurer for the first time. Inhaling a handful of oven-like air, fire wracked her lungs. Heat seared her gear, vying to bypass the protective armour.

She wheezed, rushing to whisk out a charmed necklace and lacing it at the nape of her neck. Once the drop-shaped jewellery hung safely, Celeste’s Tear activated, creating a skin-tight barrier against the rift’s environment as its qualities fizzled into power.

Coughing out the lingering discomfort, she ambled forward through trees carrying leaves of burning flames, exuding pure heat onto the gathering squad. If not for the charm, Val reckoned she’d be no better than a cooked prawn, curled up on the ground.

“Okay so. Our first item on the list is located right about here.” Rick pointed to a red ‘X’ marked across the calligraphed map.

“That’s deep in,” Silann commented, grimacing. “Do we really want to go that far on our first dive?”

“It wasn’t the original plan, but the alchemy branch informed me that the other places were snatched already.”

“What—when did that happen?”

“This morning.” He sighed. “Too late to change sites and too early to tell them it’s not doable.”

Silann cursed. “And the rest on the list?”

“All around its general vicinity.” Rick clamped a marker’s cap between his teeth and yanked it off, circling a vague circle around the dot. “We get there, stay mobile, do our thing and head out the way we came.”

Silann’s gaze gravitated to the pair of wide-eyed Strikers, excitement brimming off their bright faces. “Are we sure about this?”

“Hey, they proved to be reliable,” Aeron defended. “We’ll see how they fare in real action and decide from there.”

Bo settled for silence, staying neutral grounds within the argument.

“We’ll go with that, then.” Rick sharply exhaled, rolling up the map and taking position ahead. “Let’s move.”

…

Val's eyes started to protest within five minutes of traversing an exuberantly-lit forest, orange fire crowning the trees and creating a canopy of sheer light. Now and then, specks discharged from the burning trees. They would coalesce into tiny songbirds and flutter past, dissipating before long.

“Elemental wisps,” Aeron mentioned as Silann stretched out a finger to allow the flaming bird to perch. “Little more than elemental energy, yet a testament to a gate’s connection. I find it literary, like the Elemental Gates and its ensigns showing everyone exactly who the land belongs to, regardless of opinions.”

“Do they come in various forms?” Val asked. “The luminous cracks of Thunderstone seemed too close to lightning in colour.”

“Sharp eye, you're right on the dot.” He gave her an encouraging smile as he waved a hand, splitting a steaming river apart to aid them in crossing. Celeste’s Tear blazed as it fought off the humid heat. “An exquisite sight we have here.”

“Aeron’s making this place seem like a paradise.” Rick joined the conversation up front, hacking a branch out of the way. “Rifts, by definition, are a tear in what was prevalent beforehand. A scourge that spreads.”

“Agreed,” Silann said. “When intense aether levels and high elemental affinities are combined in any aspect, the object in question is bound to be terrifying.” Val could hear a shiver in her words. “It’s no different if it’s an area—the beasts change, elementals are released and a core forms, aiding the growth of an unnatural blotch.”

“Heavens, does this tie into the rift rule?” Caro looked back at her teammates for an answer. “I always thought the ‘Rule of Progression’ was something we made up. It’s eerily similar to the games I play.”

Aeron shrugged. “Just a coincidence.”

“The rift rule was a trend we noticed among rifts and the knowledge of it saves lives,” Rick said. “Though aether creatures cultivate naturally, the higher the energy levels, the easier and swifter their growths.”

“Which is why tiers and strength of the aether creatures scale to the distance of the rift core,” Val muttered, reciting the information Instructor Hawke drilled into them. “And why Core Guardians are intensely hard to beat.”

“The bosses,” Caro chipped in.

“Imagine if that rule disappears,” Aeron mused. “The insanity that goes in is enough to kill those trapped inside, not knowing if the next creature is Tier One or Tier Three.”

The team lapsed into silence on that note, the conversation spawning vigilance in the adventurers, greenhorns and experts alike. The swaying of trees and the caws of the air-bound fauna filled their hours as they passed by.

Soon enough, the fire-heavy trees cleared out and the team hashed their way through charcoal-like undergrowth to behold a misplaced rock. Beneath the curved, stone-overhang laid a sparklet bush, surviving the heat with delicate ease.

“That’s one down,” Rick muttered, crossing the yellow grass alongside Bo to collect the herb.

“Is that enough for the—?” Silann’s head snapped to the left, ears twitching as her hearing likely stretched beyond normal bounds. “Leaves being trampled on our one. Three… seven… caps out at twelve, and the last one’s huge.”

The group fell into formation like an array of well-placed gears, the Strikers staggering to fill in their positions. It seemed they’d automatically fallen into Pentagon Position, Rick out in front, the Strikers behind, and the backline lingering at the rear.

Bo disappeared.

A dozen wolves shot out from out of the rock, growling at the five human intruders. Possessing salmon-coloured coats, their canines poked menacingly out of their maws. They settled into a formation of their own, motherwolf at the rear of the pack. She growled, fire slithering out of laced teeth, exuding an aura of power. That has to be Tier Two, Val thought, heartbeat spiking.

> Wielder’s cause of fear detected—real enemies in sight…

> Overriding Code 291…

> Higher auxiliary abilities may be needed to aid Wielder’s survival…

> Searching…

> Integration of HUD denied…

> Activation of Quality denied…

> Full Encyclopedia denied…

> Wielder-Bound Encyclopedia allowed! Activating Wielder-Bound Encyclopedia!

A wall of black text streamed past Val’s vision and she flinched back at the hallucination. The words remained pinned to her head, stubbornly at the forefront of her attention.

Caro stumbled forward. “What the fu—!”

“Focus!” Silann berated from behind, conjuring an air-formed arrow and notching it in her summoned crossbow.

Focus? How in all of Spiravale was a person supposed to be able to focus with all this Glint-induced rubbish? Thankfully, the script fizzled out as she enforced her brain to hone in on a moving aether creature.

> Unable to assess aether creature’s type or stars due to Wielder’s limited knowledge.

> Get it together.

Gaze flickering to the inconspicuous ring at the jab, she breathed out and zoned in on the battle at hand. Ignoring the text seemed to work as, once again, they vanished.

Rick stretched his cuff-bound palms forward, erecting a cubical of dirt around the motherwolf. “Earthen Trap!”

Aeron twirled his crystal-adorned wand. Freshwater swirled out of his tubes and in front of the wolves. His manipulation spell manacled up to half of the aether creatures to the forest floor and Silann’s well-timed Air Arrows pierced three of their skulls, dying the amber grass crimson.

Two others lay sprawled on the ground. Throats slashed open, a stream of viscous blood trickled out open gouges, courtesy of their Hunter. In the meantime, Rick, too busy keeping his spell up against the Tier Two wolf, allowed a few to pass by him.

“Metal Spike!”

Simply put, Val’s conjured spell missed by a mile.

The adrenaline pumping through her veins, Aster’s self-deprecating activation, the danger of real death—a multitude of aspects not trained for in the safety of the guildhall affected her casting. A wolf vying to kill was a world away from a dummy vying to be killed.

Caro finished the spell she'd been muttering all this while. “Sand Haze!”

A mist of sand beclouded the entirety of the battlefield, the addition too thin to cause lung problems yet too thick to observe anything. Celeste’s tear cast a blue veneer across the white of her eyes, deeming the grains detrimental to her.

“Cancel the spell!” Rick ordered somewhere in front. “You took away all of our eyes, but they can smell better!”

“I-I don’t know how!” she shouted back, a foreign sense of anxiousness edging in. “I cut the aether channel, it just ain’t going!”

Val scrambled to detect where the next strike would be from. Her grip crushed the leather hilt, vision met with a wall of dull brown everywhere and anywhere. The buzz of fast-moving particles filled her ears.

A wolf snarled to the right and she hissed as it sunk its set of teeth into her arm.