You have entered sector 65,231 of the Forever Kingdom, an open sector forming part of the region known as Korg. This sector is under the control of the Silach.

The following restrictions apply to this sector: only silachens may purchase new buildings in the safe zone and only silachen civilians may trade in the safe zone. Note, a shield generator is in place around the sector, preventing portals from opening anywhere except in the designated teleportation areas.

You have entered a safe zone.

I stepped out from the portal and into a brightly lit world. The sun shone down from up high, the sky was deep cerulean, and the breeze had a salty tang to it. Wet white sand lay beneath my feet and from behind, I heard waves rippling gently in and out. In front of me were more sand dunes, palm trees, and what appeared to be a prosperous village.

Whatever else Korg Minor was, it was an idyllic-looking sector. Island, I corrected. Korg Minor is an island.

Turning around slowly, I confirmed what my senses were telling me. I was standing on a south-facing beach. According to Safyre, the safe zone encompassed the entire island, which made Korg Minor a player-only sector.

Unless, of course, the surrounding ocean is home to an aquatic species. Which admittedly was not far outside the realm of possibilities.

The gate behind me burped and three more figures spilled out before it winked out of existence. My companions’ tension was palpable. Bunching together behind me, they eyed the surroundings nervously.

“Is this the place?” Terence whispered.

“Of course, it is!” Teresa snapped back in a low voice. “Didn’t you read the Adjudicator’s message?”

“Should we draw our weapons?” Nyra asked, fixing her gaze on me.

I shook my head. “This is a safe zone. There is no need for that.” I paused, then projected my words through the farspeaker bracelet. “That is not to say the island will be threat-free. There is almost certainly danger here. But it won’t be of the physical kind. Stay on guard, and don’t utter anything revealing aloud. Who knows who may be listening.”

The trio nodded in grim understanding.

“Let’s go,” I said. “Whoever runs this place is probably in the village.”

✵ ✵ ✵

The village was heavily populated.

However, the residents were not what I expected. Green-scaled and blue-gilled, they had webbing fanning out from behind their heads and a thick muscular tail in place of legs.

“Merefolk,” Teresa muttered.

I tore my gaze away from the players sliding across the sand like upright snails to glance at the twins. The merefolk were everywhere, slipping in and out of the buildings, but seemed disinterested in us.

“You’ve come across them before?”

“You could say that,” Terence said. “We had a run-in with a mereman early on in our Game. He was a new entrant like us.”

“He was also rude, curt, and standoffish,” Teresa added bitingly.

“But a great fighter nonetheless,” Terence said.

Teresa nodded reluctantly.

“I see,” I said noncommittally. The twins’ remarks were hardly useful, nor did it explain the merefolk’s presence on the island. Safyre had not mentioned them either, and I could only assume that was because they hadn’t been here during her own visit. The amphibious nature of the sector’s residents would’ve surely stuck in her memory otherwise.

What did it mean for our plans?

“Hail, two-legs.”

Facing forward again, I saw that a large mereman wielding a harpoon had placed himself before us. He wore no armor, nor any clothing of any kind, but was draped in jewelry aplenty, each bearing the telltale spark of magic.

“Welcome to Korg,” the mereman continued, seeing that he had our attention. “What brings you to our little corner of the world?”

“Greetings…?” I began, pointedly not using his name though I knew it already.

“Wylton,” he supplied easily, “silachen protector and resident of Korg.”

I inclined my head. “Well met, Wylton. I’m Actus, and this is Nyra, Terence, and Teresa.”

“What brings you to Korg?” Wylton asked again. “It is not often we get visitors of the two-legged variety.”

“I confess I’ve never been to Korg before,” I replied, “nor for that matter have I heard of the silachen.”

Wylton laughed. “I’m not surprised. We are a new faction.”

I let my surprise show. “Then Korg is a recent… acquisition?”

“Relatively,” he allowed. “Silach claimed both islands a decade ago.”

Hmm. So, they own Korg Major as well. “That explains it.”

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Wylton tilted his head to the side. “Explains what?”

“It’s been many years since our friend, the one who directed us here, last visited the island,” I said.

“Ah,” Wylton remarked. “You were expecting a different sort of reception.”

I smiled. “Actually, we had no idea what to expect. Our coming here was something of a gamble.” I dipped my head again. “One which hasn’t paid off it seems. Please accept my apology for the intrusion. We’ll take our leave now.” Not waiting for his response, I swung around. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!”

I drew to a halt. I’d been hoping we could make our escape without suffering further questioning. For all of the mereman’s apparent affability, he was a rank nineteen player. And while not all the other players in the village were of comparable level, enough of them were to leave me in no doubt that Silach was a powerful faction.

One, I did not want to trifle with.

Especially not with three under-leveled companions at my back, and especially not on their home turf. But I did not mistake the protector’s words for anything but what they were: an order.

Sighing, I turned back around. “Yes?”

“You did not answer my question,” Wylton said mildly.

I feigned ignorance. “Which one?”

The mereman chuckled, not fooled. “The only one that matters: what brings you to Korg?”

There was no point in denying the truth. “We came for the dungeon,” I admitted. “Korg’s Deep.”

Wylton’s gaze flitted from me to the others, studying our gear critically. “What Force are you affiliated with?”

“None yet,” I replied, “as I’m sure you’ve already noticed.”

Wylton’s lips turned down. “Which Power then?”

“One who prefers to remain anonymous,” I replied calmly.

The mereman frowned but didn’t push the issue.

I stepped back. “Now that we’ve answered your questions, we’ll take our leave.”

“The dungeon is open to non-faction members,” he declared abruptly.

My brows rose in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded. “There will be a cost, though.”

“Naturally,” I murmured. “How much?”

Wylton shrugged. “That’s for the dungeon keeper to say. You will find him at the islands’ northern beach, in the tower housing the nether portal.”

I hesitated. Wylton had displayed no sign of hostility, yet I remained wary of staying longer. The silachen appeared to be in absolute control of the sector, and the same likely applied to Korg Major. Then there was the strength of the protector’s Marks.

The mereman was steeped in Shadow as were many of the village’s residents.

Wylton had not said so, but I was certain Silach was a Shadow faction. Did I really want to leave my young companions at their mercy? But what other choice did I have? Right now, it was either this or a dungeon under the control of a Light faction.

“We should do it,” Teresa said.

I glanced at her sideways. “They’re a Shadow faction.”

“So?” she demanded caustically. “That doesn’t make them any more—or less—dangerous than a Dark or Light one.”

Because of Loken I viewed Shadow with more trepidation than I did Dark and Light, but Teresa was right, there was no objective difference between the three. Shadow factions could be as benign as Light or Dark ones—or just as brutal.

“That may be true,” I admitted, “but there’s no denying they’re a Force faction, and likely one with a Power nearby. Are you three sure you want to enter a dungeon controlled by them?”

“We should at least investigate further,” Nyra replied.

“I agree,” Terence added.

I sighed. “Very well.” Turning my attention outward again, I bestowed Wylton with another smile. “Thank you for the directions. We’ll head that way now.”

✵ ✵ ✵

We made our way through the village without incident.

None of the players we passed—all merefolk—attempted to approach us, and while I spotted more than one shopkeeper, I kept my distance as well. As the only land bound players on the island we were already too memorable, and the last thing I wanted was to create more of a stir.

Exiting the village, I spotted a blurred shape to the north. “Korg Major,” I murmured.

“Where?” Teresa asked.

“There,” I said, pointing out the large landmass on the horizon. “It looks huge.”

Terence squinted at the island. “Well, at least we now know which direction to swim in if we have to.”

“I don’t think you want to do that,” I said, picking out a deceptively small shape breaking through the surface in the far distance. “The ocean is not empty, and somehow I don’t think the wildlife is going to be friendly.”

“Oh,” Terence said, deflating.

“That must be the tower Wylton spoke of,” Nyra said, drawing my attention.

Looking where she pointed, I spotted a squat wooden tower partially obscured by the surrounding palm trees. Changing course, I headed towards it.

✵ ✵ ✵

The tower’s ground floor was crowded by heavily armored and armed merefolk. Dungeon teams, I thought, readying for their dive. It was not only merefolk filling the room, though. Looking carefully, I spotted a handful of tratins, sirens, and even a few sea hags.

The sea hags gave me pause.

Our one prior meeting had not ended well, but even though our entrance had attracted the attention of everyone in the room, I sensed no animosity in any of the staring faces, hags included.

“Is there a line?” Terence asked worriedly. “Because if we have to wait for all these people to go through first, it’s going to be days before we enter the dungeon.”

“Don’t be so impatient,” Teresa retorted.

“You’re calling me impatient?” Terence demanded incredulously.

I almost smiled at the pair’s banter, but the approach of a slim merewoman distracted me. “You can head on down,” she said peremptorily.

I blinked. “Down?”

She nodded. “Wylton told us you were coming. Dungeon Keeper Quartz is waiting.”

“What about all of them?” Terence asked, looking pointedly into the crowded room.

The merewoman shrugged. “They’re freeloaders. You’re paying customers. You get preference.”

Terence straightened proudly. “How about that.”

Rolling her eyes, Teresa brushed past him and down the nearby stairs.

Nyra and Terence glanced at me.

“I guess we best follow her,” I replied in response to their looks.