A group of elven champions clad in leather armor and loose keffiyeh moved silently through the wasteland, their mouths and noses covered, revealing only their sparkling emerald eyes. Armed with an array of daggers, bows, and arrows, they navigated the relentless dust and sand whipped up by the howling winds.

“Vulluin, are you certain this is the right path?” a female elf asked, her gaze shifting to the tall and slender elf leading the eight-man party.

Vulluin turned to her, his eyes gleaming with confidence. “Trust me, we are on the right path. That broker is known for his reliability.”

“That aside, are you confident that strategy will work?” another elf questioned, reaching for a water canteen strapped to his belt.

Vulluin sighed softly, his gaze shifting through the group. “We shouldn’t have this conversation out here in the open,” he said, gesturing toward a rocky formation dominated by towering boulders. “Let’s take a break over there.”

The elves agreed with a nod. Apart from their desire to formulate a better strategy, they also needed rest. They had traveled through the torturous and tortuous area for months. Both their minds and bodies were weary. Wordlessly, the champions sought refuge from the howling winds amidst the sturdy rocks. Some loosened their keffiyehs to eat and drink, while others removed their boots and reclined against the dusty stone barriers.

Vulluin, unlike the others, cast a spell around the area, enshrouding the region with a dusty barrier that mimicked the swirling dust rain blighting the region.

“So?” an elf suddenly said, lowering her water canteen as she stared at Vulluin. The elves all turned toward their leader, their expectant eyes demanding answers.

Vulluin sighed, leaning against a nearby boulder. “You all know the difficulty of this stage. Surviving is already a chore, especially given the scarcity of resources. But the real headache is finding the exit and using it—”

“We know this already,” an elf interjected with a frown. “Get to the point already. You know what we want to hear.”

Vulluin sighed again, shaking his head. “You all are so impatient. Anyways,” he paused, adopting a serious demeanor. “Like I said, the information is 100% reliable. I spoke with a group that successfully cleared this stage using this path. Our strategy is based on their experience. It was expensive, but in a place like this, information is powerful.”

“But it still doesn’t make any sense to me,” an elf said, shaking sand from his boots. “If I remember correctly, the plan is to engage the guardians of the exit while holding back, hoping they will turn on each other, giving us the opportunity to slay them. No matter how much I think about it, that doesn’t sound like a reliable plan. What’s the guarantee the larger guardians will turn on the smaller ones as the information claims? I understand you believe the information is reliable, but we all know things don’t always go as expected in this forsaken place. Forgive me, but I’m not willing to put my life on the line for something uncertain.”

All eyes focused on Vulluin once more. The elf still radiated the same aura of confidence. “I understand your concerns. Truly, it’s impossible to determine what might happen. However, our best chance of leaving this place is to act based on the most reliable information we have. Multiple sources agree that the guardians and exits are notoriously difficult to find and even harder to beat. We've been fortunate enough to locate two, and this is the closest.” Vulluin paused, his eyes sweeping over the group. “I won’t ask any of you to place your lives in my hands. But should you choose to follow me, I want you to believe in me. I have led us this far, and I don’t intend to lead us to our deaths.”

Vulluin spoke no further, and neither did his companions. The elves exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of emotions. Moments later, they stood upright, boots firmly secured, and items properly checked.

“All right, captain, lead us to another sparkling victory,” an elf commented, smiling as he secured his keffiyeh.

Vulluin stood upright, his smile hidden behind his headgear. “Let’s go. We still have a long way to go.”

The barrier covering the elves disappeared, and the party continued their arduous journey through the dusty land. Several hours passed, and the group traveled between the cracks of a shattered mountain. The dusty winds had vanished, replaced by a chilling cold. Yet the champions marched forward, their gazes occasionally lingering on a gigantic turquoise portal elevated along the path. The fact that the portal was there, just as the informant had said, eroded some of their lingering skepticism. The group proceeded carefully, reining in their emotions as they traversed the unfamiliar terrain.

Leading the champions, Vulluin turned to a female elf on his right. “Siora, can you detect any presence up there?”

“I’ll check,” she replied, closing her eyes. When she opened them, a citrine hue coated her emerald pupils. Her consciousness projected astrally, traveling at the speed of light toward the portal. Moments later, she returned.

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Siora took a deep breath, her eyes gradually returning to normal, but concern clouded them—an expression Vulluin didn’t miss. He stepped closer. “What is it? What did you see?”

“There’s no one there,” she said, confusion palpable. “I searched, but the place is unguarded.”

Vulluin frowned, and several of his companions did too. “Could it be some form of cloaking ability?” an elf suggested.

Siora shook her head. “If it were, I would have sensed the disturbance in the astral realm. No matter how delicate one’s abilities are, there’s always a trace left behind,” she explained.

“So, you’re saying that place is unguarded right now?” an elf asked, his gaze turning toward the turquoise portal in the distance.

“I don’t know,” Siora muttered. “I trust what I saw, but at the same time, I’m not so shortsighted as to believe there are no abilities out there that supersede mine,” she admitted.

“Vulluin, you’re our leader. What do we do?” another elf asked. The elves turned their attention toward their leader, patiently awaiting his command.

Vulluin remained silent, deep in thought. Siora is right. While her ability is extremely reliable, it does have its flaws. But why would the guardians not be present? Are they planning to ambush us as soon as we reveal ourselves?

“Vulluin, your orders,” an elf asked, tapping his shoulder.

Vulluin took a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we can’t miss this opportunity. Stay alert; it might be a trap,” he declared solemnly.

The elves nodded, a serious atmosphere settling over the group. Vulluin cleared his throat. “Let’s depart—” His voice echoed just as the sturdy earth beneath them loosened, instantly turning into a muddy slurry. The elves sank neck-deep into the mud before it hardened again, trapping them. Before anyone could comprehend what had happened, the ground several feet away bubbled softly, and several figures emerged from the loose sand.

The elves' expressions darkened as they stared at the ten-man party of orcs, mole rats, and a creature covered in flowing mud. The largest orc chortled, placing his mace on his shoulder. “Thank you very much for leading the way. We’ll handle the rest now,” he declared.

The group sprinted toward the portal with maddened haste, leaving the elves to curse them.

“Damn it. I was careless,” Vulluin cursed, straining his muscles in a futile attempt to free his buried body. An unknown force constantly ebbed away at their energy sources, forcing them to rely solely on their physical might. “Flore, can you get us out?” he called out.

Unlike the other elves, cracks lined the area where Flore was buried. “I need a minute to free myself.”

“Damn it!” Vulluin cursed again. He was certain the other party would reach the portal by then. “Try your best to get us out in twenty seconds—” A thunderous bang cut off his words, and the champions raised their heads toward the deep reaches of the mountain path.

Dust clouds obscured parts of the portal, but it still stood in its full glory.

“What was that?” an elf asked, frowning as she squinted at the portal.

The dust cloud suddenly vanished, leaving the group with more questions than answers.

“Siora, can you check what’s happening over—” Vulluin paused again, his eyes widening as the massive portal turned black. At that same moment, Flore freed himself from the earthy binds. Instantly, he launched a series of quick strikes at the ground, forming cracks on its surface. Within seconds, the other elves pulled themselves out, but their attention remained fixed on the blackened portal.

Siora activated her ability once more, projecting her consciousness astrally toward the portal. She whizzed past the party that ambushed them, arriving at the portal’s vicinity. There, unlike before, she found four unfamiliar figures lingering a few feet away.

Where did these people come from? she thought, moving closer to Slim, but quickly halted. She felt the cold hands of death caress her astral form the closer she got to the undead. Then, there was Zara, who exuded a pungent coppery scent, with reddish tendrils thrashing around her form like living puppet strings.

Siora focused on Ember, and immediately averted her gaze, sensing an overbearing draconic presence searching for her. She turned her attention to Orion. Of the four, he seemed too normal, and that unsettled her. Even regular beings emitted some form of energy, but Orion gave nothing away, like an empty vessel.

Siora debated whether to return to her body or approach the portal—the main reason for her investigation.

“I’ve already made it this far. I might as well see what’s wrong with the portal,” she muttered, her voice echoing in the astral plane.

She cautiously flew toward the portal, her curious eyes lingering on the blackened swirl. The warm, turquoise hue had vanished, replaced by an ominous, mortal chill.

“How did it suddenly become like this?” She paused midway, halting her advance. A figure she had noticed earlier stood in front of the portal, staring directly at her.

Siora tried to flee, but her astral form wouldn’t respond. At that moment, a yellow sign flickered on the portal, twisting and turning until it formed a pair of eyes that pierced into her intangible form.

A figure in yellow manifested, and Siora unleashed a maddening scream as her astral form dissolved. She awoke in her body, blood streaming from her eyes, a yellow sign flickering in her pupils. The lights in her eyes dimmed, lunacy clouding her vision.

“Siora,” Vulluin called, tapping her arm.

Laughter escaped from the dazed elf. She turned to Vulluin, a delirious smile parting her lips. She gripped his shoulders, staring deeply into his eyes. “He sees us! The Unspeakable One sees us! Madness is eternal!”

Vulluin shuddered, and so did the rest of the elves. They had never heard such words spoken with a mix of fear and excitement.

Siora instinctively let go of Vulluin’s shoulders and reached for the daggers around her waist. Without hesitation, she plunged the dagger toward her neck, her laughter echoing through the air. Vulluin struck the dagger out of her hand with lightning precision, and another elf delivered a swift blow to the nape of her neck, leaving her unconscious.

Vulluin caught Siora’s body before she hit the ground. He turned to his companions. “We are getting away from this place now!” There was no room for discussion; it was an order he expected everyone to follow.

Wordlessly, the elves fled with the fastest speed they could muster. Some glanced back, their gazes lingering on the blackened portal in the distance. They couldn’t help but wonder what or who Siora had encountered to drive her to the edge of suicide. Although they felt sympathetic toward Siora, they were relieved the other party had ambushed them. The thought of what might have befallen them if they had reached the portal first sent shivers down their spines.