Terrance sat in the quiet of his study, the soft flicker of candlelight casting long shadows against the stone walls. It was a modest room, as simple and practical as the man himself. The sword school was no place for luxuries, and neither was Terrance.

  In his hands, he held a parchment. It was one of the many tools he had used over the years to communicate quickly and efficiently with the world beyond. The Message Bird was a peculiar thing, a magical scroll that transformed into a bird and flew off to the recipient, carrying the words of the sender.

  Terrance had used it countless times throughout his many adventures, sending messages to allies, commanders, and occasionally to his old friends in far-flung places.

  But now, it troubled him.

  He stared at the parchment, the ink still fresh in his hand. He had written a name, a name that sounded foreign, strange.

  Kael.

  His thoughts wandered back to his earlier confrontation with Sir Darion. It troubled Terrance to think that a Master, a being trapped in a square could communicate and organize a trap like that.

  The idea that the Newvale Master might have been able to send a message with one of these birds troubled him greatly. Could the message even cross the blue walls? Could someone like that use such a tool? Terrance didn’t know, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

  Terrance frowned, looking at the ink on the parchment, turning it toward the air, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did. The paper sat still, unmoving.

  He had written the name of the recipient and yet, it remained inert.

  "Dammit," he muttered, tossing the parchment onto the table with a sigh.

  The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was tangled in something bigger than the simple matters of Newvale, Masters or even the war.

  A recruit burst into the study, interrupting Terrance’s troubled thoughts. He hadn’t heard the boy approach, too absorbed in his own considerations. The recruit’s breath came in short bursts, clearly having run all the way from the training yard.

  “Master Terrance!” the recruit panted. “Urgent news, sir!”

  ******

  Kael stood at the heart of his square, the familiar blue walls now feeling more like a cage. The brief taste of freedom still lingered in his mind. It had been an exhilarating experience, one that fed his curiosity and ignited something in him. A burning desire to explore, to understand this world beyond the walls. But now that the moment had passed, reality set in.

  His square was his domain. And the companions within were his responsibility.

  Gerry, his massive golem, had lost an arm in the chaos. Kael acted swiftly, the magic surging through his hammer, the metal fusing together. Gerry was whole again, the cracks and damage disappearing as if they had never been.

  Then there was Xal, his Skara, the fierce warrior who had fought without hesitation, the one who had been the first to charge into the fray. But he had paid the ultimate price. Xal was gone, torn apart by the griffin that had swooped down from the sky.

  Then there was his other Skara, Grymos. His body was still intact, but his injuries ran deep. Kael knew Grymos would recover, but the wounds would take time. And Kael couldn’t afford to waste any.

  Boney, his towering Ossuary, had also been damaged. Cracks ran across the bones that made up its towering form, the once-imposing figure now looking fragile. The bones had taken too many hits from the Golden Legion’s hammer.

  And the slimes. Kael had watched as his forces of green and ice slimes had been decimated. Their numbers had been reduced by half. The slimes, so reliable in battle, had proven to be less resilient against the golden soldiers and the sheer strength of the Golden Legion.

  “Rebuild,” Kael whispered to himself.

  It was his only option. Rise from this setback, stronger than before.

  His eyes drifted over to the loot from the battle. Not a total loss.

  The remnants of the Golden Legion, their weapons, armor, and treasures scattered across the ground, were now his to claim. The Thunderhammers, heavy and imposing, lay in neat piles. He had looted three, each one a powerful artifact in its own right.

  The Golden armor would be a prized asset for his forces or melted down for even more gold. The golden spears and swords, despite covered in dirt and blood, reflected the low light.

  This could be worth quite a lot, he thought to himself, the idea of selling it in the Master’s Marketplace already forming. The Marketplace would be busy this coming Sunday, and he could easily offload these items for a handsome sum.

  Kael reached for his orb, his mind turning over the possibilities of how best to use the gold from the Golden Legion. He was stunned as his gold count spiked. Gold, not from the chests looted after the battle, but from elsewhere. His gaze lingered on the number, a slight frown creasing his brow. This is higher than expected, he thought.

  Before he could ponder further, a familiar voice broke his thoughts.

  “Well, well, those Golden soldiers were worth quite a lot of bounty, weren’t they?” Skrindle’s voice was as dry as ever, his tone laced with a hint of amusement.

  Kael nodded in agreement. “They weren’t easy to kill.”

  “The leader of that little band of Golden Legionnaires… He’s a gold-level warrior. Worth over a thousand gold, all by himself,” Skrindle said.

  Kael thought on this, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the smooth surface of the orb. A thousand gold?

  The power and skill that Titus possessed. How many summons had he killed? How many Masters and squares were devastated by him?

  “And the rest of his men, Skrindle?”

  “A mix of silver and bronze levels. Not as much as the leader, but it’s a lot of gold to be had from them.”

  “Excellent,” Kael said. “Now what about the chests of gold?”

  Skrindle didn’t respond verbally at first. He merely floated towards the chests, his gaze flicking between Kael and the treasure.

  The iron frames of the chests were barely holding the precious metals inside. He stepped toward the nearest chest, his fingers brushing lightly against the lid before lifting it open.

  The sight of gold coins filled his vision. They were filled to the brim, glinting in the dim light of his square. There was no end to it, no limit to how much gold lay inside.

  Gold.

  The word lingered in Kael’s mind. Everything in this world, everything in this system—it all came down to gold. Without it, he was nothing. Without it, his conclave was nothing. But with it, he could build. He could grow.

  Kael glanced over at the other six chests, each one brimming with the same wealth. He knew what was to be done. The gold had to be absorbed, had to be consolidated.

  He watched as the coins began to flow, their movement almost magical as they started to rise from the chest, drifting toward his orb. Each coin shimmered in the air before being sucked into the orb, the glow from the orb growing stronger as the gold was absorbed.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The golden light from the orb flickered and pulsed, its glow soft and rhythmic. Kael could feel his resources growing. When the last of the coins had been absorbed, Kael took a breath and looked at the numbers that appeared on the orb.

  778 436 Gold.

  A smile slowly spread across Kael's face. Tons of Gold, Wallbreaker Crystals, the chance to reincarnate his fallen companions, all the upgrades for his conclave. It all felt like the beginning of something far greater.

  For a moment, the sense of elation was almost overwhelming. Kael had faced losses, pain, and the brutal grind of survival, but now, the pieces of his strategy were falling into place.

  His fingers brushed against the orb, the cool surface familiar beneath his hand. The magic of the orb thrummed beneath his touch, as if it sensed his intention.

  He left the magic surge within him. A soft glow began to emanate from the orb, slowly intensifying, until it was blinding.

  The light flared, and in that moment, he saw Xal, the Skara who had been torn apart by a griffin, slowly reforming before him. The light flared again, and this time, the soft blue of Kael's wisps flickered into existence. Blue, the wisp that sacrificed himself, materialized before him. And just behind it, the slimes reformed one by one.

  It took a mere ten gold per level to reincarnate them. A mere trifle in comparison to Kael’s newfound wealth. A small price to pay for his companions' lives.

  He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. His companions were back at his side and Kael could feel his resolve harden.

  There was so much to do, so many upgrades and improvements he could make. Kael couldn’t help but feel spoiled for choice.

  His Skara, his demons had killed in the last fight and the Demonomicon held secrets, secrets that would unlock his demon’s experience.

  And then there was the Weapons Volume II book. He had relied on basic swordplay techniques for too long. There were new skills and techniques he could learn, it could make him stronger, more efficient.

  There were too many options. And right now, his time was limited.

  In the end, Kael knew the time-sensitive tasks were what demanded his immediate attention.

  The Conclave Expeditions.

  The fast he sent his companions on an expedition, the sooner he could get their rewards. Kael turned his attention to the expedition list, his eyes scanning the two options that had become available to him.

  Ancient Ruins of the Master

  Difficulty: Easy

  Reward: 1 Conclave Crystal, 100 Gold, One Common Artifact

  The Sky Temple

  Difficulty: Intermediate

  Reward: 3 Conclave Crystals, 400 Gold, One Uncommon Enchantment

  Kael stood still, watching as Xal, Grymos, Boney, and Sludge, along with a handful of slimes, disappeared in a flash of glowing light.

  The shimmering trail left behind faded into the darkness, and the timer in the air ticked to life.

  Twelve hours.

  He had made the right choice this time, opting for the easier expedition, the Ancient Ruins of the Master. The last time he had been too bold, too eager to take the more difficult path. It had cost him, and this time, Kael was determined not to make the same mistake and not risk the lives of his companions in a challenge that was too great for them.

  Kael watched the timer for a moment, his mind already moving on. His companions were in capable hands, and now he had other matters to attend to.

  Conclave upgrades.

  He had the resources, the gold, and the crystals to strengthen his conclave, to make his square more powerful. But as he considered his next move, Kael hesitated.

  He had options, too many to count, and the right upgrade could tip the scales in his favor. But Kael knew better than to act hastily.

  Perhaps, Kael thought to himself, he should wait. He needed to see how the others develop, what they bring to the table. Each of them had their own strengths, their own weaknesses, and Kael needed to ensure that his upgrades fit their group.

  “Yes,” Kael murmured aloud. “Wait for them to join. See what they need. Then, I’ll act accordingly.”

  His mind turned back to the Demonomicon. The book felt heavy in his hands, laden with secrets, powers, and dark knowledge waiting to be unlocked. As his fingers hovered over the book’s cover, a mechanical voice broke through the silence.

  "Kael?"

  “We brought back a live one. What do you want to do?” Gerry’s words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, and for a moment, Kael didn’t understand.

  “A live one?” Kael repeated.

  “Yes,” Gerry said. “The griffin. One of them is still alive.”

  Kael’s heart skipped a beat. A griffin? How did one survive?

  He remembered the griffins. Those beasts of battle, deadly in the air, swooping down on his forces with overwhelming speed. Kael was sure Myke’s Coinshot had killed them all. And yet... one was still alive?

  Kael followed Gerry, trying to figure what to do. When he reached it, he saw the creature lying on its side, its massive form bleeding out in the dirt. The griffin was large, its feathers stained a dark crimson, its wings twitching weakly. It was close to death.

  His gaze lingered on the griffin’s chest, where he could see the slow rise and fall of its breath. It was alive, but barely.

  He knew he didn’t have the ability to heal it. He didn’t have the magic to mend such a beast. The griffin had been a tool in the battle against him, nothing more. But now, seeing it so helpless, so vulnerable, Kael couldn’t ignore the potential it represented.

  He looked at the blue walls of his square, the arcane force that kept him a prisoner. The griffin was alive, yet it didn’t count as an invader. Why?

  The griffin was vulnerable, but it still had a certain majesty, a wild power that resonated through its frame. Kael couldn’t simply leave it to die.

  Could he keep it alive? Could he perhaps use it as a weapon, as part of his growing force?

  Kael’s green clawed hand hovered above the griffin’s battered form, its wings twitching feebly beneath the strain of its injuries. The griffin recoiled slightly as Kael’s fingers brushed the creature's sleek, ruffled feathers, but it didn’t pull away.

  There was understanding there, Kael could see it, a silent communication passed between them, unspoken, but clear.

  The griffin had once been a foe, a mount bred for the hunt and the kill, trained to destroy Kael’s companions and the Masters in their squares. But now, lying there on the damp earth, barely clinging to life, it was a potential ally.

  "I don’t have any way to heal you," Kael whispered.

  Kael reached into his orb, pulling out the Essence Syringe. He had used it before, to extract traits, to modify the essence of creatures. But this, this was different. The griffin was a creature of aerial majesty, born to fly, to soar, to reign over the skies. If he could capture that, if he could take that trait...

  “Your wings will live on in my companion,” he whispered.

  He pressed the syringe against the griffin’s side, where the creature’s feathers met its flesh. The griffin didn’t move, didn’t resist. Kael pressed harder, and the needle sank into the griffin’s body. The purplish essence began to drain out of it, the liquid swirling into the syringe.

  As the last of the purplish liquid settled, Kael pulled the syringe away. The griffin’s body was still, though it breathed, shallow and steady.

  The words appeared before him, floating in the air, glowing faintly:

  Winged - This trait gives creatures a pair of wings.

  The griffin’s wings were now a tool, an asset in Kael’s growing arsenal. He had meant to give Shadow wings, to enhance his loyal mount’s power, but as he looked at the griffin, Kael couldn’t help but think of the possibilities.

  Jello, the slime, who had leveled up in size during the battle and was almost the size of a horse, could have wings too. Not just any wings, but wings of slime, large and wobbly, rippling with each movement. The thought made Kael smile, imagining the chaos he could unleash, his slimes soaring into battle.

  Grymos, the massive, lizard demon Skara, could have wings to match his strength. Imagine the speed, the ferocity. The sheer terror they would instill in any opponent foolish enough to face him in the sky.

  And then there was Boney, its massive skeletal frame already a formidable sight. The idea of Boney with bone wings, huge and jagged, hovering above the battlefield, was both shocking and terrifying in equal measure.

  As Kael turned back to the griffin, his heart twisted slightly. Kael reached down, placing his hand gently on the griffin’s now still body. His fingers brushed against the feathers, cool and lifeless.

  “Thank you,” Kael mouthed silently.

  Kael held the syringe in his hand but before Kael could decide which of his companions would benefit most from the gift of flight, the air around him seemed to shift.

  A blinding light flashed outside the walls of his square, too bright to ignore. He knew at once that it could only mean one thing.

  Grandmaster Terrance was coming.

  A wry smile tugged at Kael’s lips. So the Golden Legion had sent word. The outpost must have finally reached its commander. It had taken them an hour to organize themselves and make their way toward his square.

  Terrance was a seasoned warrior, a master of tactics, but Kael had no fear of him. The ceasefire was still in place, and Kael doubted Terrance would break it without careful consideration.

  Would they break the ceasefire? Kael wondered to himself. The thought was worrying, but he doubted it. Terrance was a strategist, not a fool. Diplomacy would likely be the first path he pursued. Still, Kael was ready for anything. Preparedness was key, and he wasn’t about to take chances.

  A green glow filled the square, and in an instant, fifty green slimes appeared, their gelatinous bodies wobbling in unison as they gathered around Kael.

  Without hesitation, Kael placed his hand back on the orb. This time, a blue light flared to life, illuminating the square in a soft, icy glow. From the orb, fifty ice slimes materialized, their bodies sleek and cold, their forms gliding across the ground.

  He was a Master, and this was his square. He would defend it, or he would strike first, if necessary.

  Whatever came next, Kael would be ready.

  ******

  Square: Unknown

  Master: Kael

  Difficulty: Bronze

  Conclave: New Conclave 1

  Treasure: 778 226 Gold Gold

  Residents: 55 Ice Slimes Lvl 1

  55 Green Slimes Lvl 1

  4 Green Slimes Lvl 2

  2 Green Slime Lvl 3

  1 Green Slime Lvl 4

  34 Will-o-wisp Lvl 1

  1 Skara Lvl 1

  Mount: Shadow Mount

  Kills: 77