The setting sun cast long shadows across Tavalor's study as he lounged in a plush armchair, observing Little Shadow in mild amusement.

  Little Shadow had developed quite an affinity for magical honey, and over the last couple of days had been secretly stealing drops from Little Bee and from Tavalor's tea when he wasn’t looking.

  Not that Tavalor minded. The magical properties seemed to be accelerating little shadow's evolution in some interesting ways.

  He was now the size of a large cat, but it's form had become more defined. What had been a formless blob of darkness now possessed recognisable features— a sharp, curved beak, broad wings that spread when exited, and piercing violet eyes that seemed to be more intelligent on the daily.

  Though composed of shadow essence, he seemed more and more eagle-like and less like a raven. He looked like a much more regal creature.

  Did he come from an Upper Realm? Tavalor thought to himself.

  Yesterdays events and the discovery of the Watchmaker and the Watch forced Tavalor to re-evaluate some things.

  The knowledge of there being upper realms removed the blinkers from his mind. Suddenly a lot of the unknown mysteries had a clear resolution.

  If there was something unexpected, unknown or out of old Tavalor's memories. It came from an upper realm.

  The Watchers came from an upper real to find something here.

  The Watch came from an Upper Realm.

  The Chitari obviously came from an Upper Realm as did the giants and their continent.

  The knowledge gem that Little Shadow came from was obviously from an upper realm. Little Shadow was probably born from the remnants of an Upper Realm creature.

  This was the first real Upper Realm creature that Tavalor had ever seen. Tavalor looked over at Little Shadow in interest. Little Shadow chirped at him. Curious as to the strange look on Tavalor's face.

  'Nothing, nothing,' Tavalor said to little shadow. 'Just looking. You're getting much bigger.'

  Little Shadow puffed out his chest and chirped arrogantly.

  'You're getting too clever for your own good,' Tavalor mused, watching Little Shadow hovered near the ceiling, practising aerial manoeuvres with increasing precision.

  The shadow creature descended at the sound of his voice, landing on the arm of his chair with surprising grace. It tilted its head again, regarding Tavalor with curiosity.

  'You can understand me better now?' Tavalor asked, reaching out to stroke its insubstantial form. The touch created ripples across Little Shadow's surface, like fingers disturbing still water.

  Little Shadow chirped in response—a sound halfway between a bird's call and the rustling of leaves. It then performed a complex series of movements, darting to Tavalor's bookshelf, selecting a specific tome with care, and bringing it back.

  'Impressive,' Tavalor said, accepting the book—a treatise on magical beasts he'd been reading the previous day. 'You've been paying attention.'

  Little Shadow preened, its form puffing up slightly in what appeared to be pride.

  For the next few minutes, Tavalor tested the creature with increasingly complex commands—fetching specific objects, arranging items in particular patterns, even distinguishing between different magical auras.

  Little Shadow performed each task with growing confidence, occasionally adding flourishes that suggested not mere obedience but genuine comprehension.

  If Tavalor was to describe his improvement, the previous Little Shadow had been a five year old, this little shadow was a ten year old.

  'You're becoming quite sentient, aren't you?' Tavalor murmured, more to himself than to his companion. 'I wonder what else you're capable of.'

  Little Shadow chirped again, then flew to the window, pressing against the glass while looking outward. The message was clear—it was curious about the world beyond the manor's walls.

  Tavalor considered this for a moment, then reached into his [System Space]. He withdrew a small orb, no larger than a marble, that glowed with a faint amber light.

  'This is a miniature [Dragon Eye],' he said holding up the orb. Since they were linked, Little Shadow had demonstrated the ability to use some of Tavalor's abilities. 'It is the mother and it can send out one child orb. Invisible to anybody below [S-Class],' Tavalor said proudly. He had been improving his spell, and it was a marvel now.

  Little Shadow's violet eyes fixed on the orb, its attention absolute.

  'It's yours if you want it,' Tavalor offered.

  Without hesitation, Little Shadow flowed forward, enveloping the orb. The small artifact didn't disappear within its shadowy form but instead remained visible, now suspended at the centre of where Little Shadow's head would be, glowing brightly like a third eye.

  A circle of magical energy drifted out of Little Shadow, the child eye, and left the room.

  The effect was immediate. Little Shadow shot upward, circling the room with newfound purpose. It paused at the window again, but this time, its posture suggested it was looking far beyond the immediate grounds.

  For the rest of the afternoon, Little Shadow darted between windows, observing Vallenport with its enhanced sight. Occasionally, it would return to Tavalor, projecting ghostly images—impressions of what it had seen—into the air before him.

  'So you can share your visions now,' Tavalor said, genuinely impressed. 'What have you discovered on your first day as Vallenport's sentinel?'

  In response, Little Shadow projected a more coherent image, focusing on the dockside district. The scene showed a wealthy merchant, recognisable by his fine clothes and imperious bearing, slipping into a modest flower shop.

  Inside, an old woman with a look of despair greeted him, shaking her head.

  The image shifted, showing the older woman earlier that day. It showed the older woman visiting a younger woman. The young woman, had arrived earlier in the day from an airship. She handed the older woman a letter.

  The merchant opened the letter and read it. A look of despair appeared on his face. Matching the older woman.

  A secret tragedy. What did he read on the letter? Little Shadow couldn't read and Tavalor could barely read common. He mostly read Draconic and that was for spell purposes.

  When the vision faded, Tavalor sat in thoughtful silence. 'You've witnessed quite the drama,' he said eventually. 'And you understand it, don't you? The joy, the sorrow, the secrecy—all of it.'

  Little Shadow dipped its head in what seemed like acknowledgement.

  'The city is full of such stories,' Tavalor continued.

  ***

  The following morning found Tavalor at the Gilded Hearth, Little Shadow nestled within his cloak, only its violet eyes occasionally visible as it peered out at the café's patrons.

  The familiar aroma of enchanted brews filled the air, and Tavalor sipped his Calming Brew while perusing the latest edition of the Adventurer's Gazette.

  His eyes narrowed as he rad through the power raking section again.

  Something didn't add up this time around.

  Tavalor remembered all of the people that he had met. He remembered the auras he and Little Shadow had seen using [Dragon Sight].

  He thought about the descriptions and compared with his own observations.

  'Half of this is fabricated,' he muttered to himself.

  He thought back to the older edition he'd read earlier—all of the supposed [A-Class] adventurers, including Emberfist, had significantly inflated abilities.

  It was all fake. Not all, but mostly.

  This truly was a gossip rag.

  Tavalor was astonished again. But then he thought things through. This was a dog-eat-dog world. The people writing these articles are weak, so they can only really write things that the strong allowed.

  It was mostly PR with a gem or two of truth passing through.

  Tavalor snorted softly. Emberfist, powerful though she had been barely [C-Class] when he had met her by his reckoning. Impressive for a human, certainly, but nowhere near the [A-Class] status the Gazette had assigned her.

  Little Shadow chirped quietly from within his cloak, sending him a brief image—Emberfist training intensely in the manor's garden, fire erupting from her gauntlets with greater control than before.

  'Yes, she's improving,' Tavalor acknowledged. 'But there's still a vast gulf between her current abilities and what these rankings claim.'

  Emberfist had managed to reach [B-Class] through her experiences in the Vallen's dungeon—quite the achievement for someone who was barely [C-Class] a year ago.

  If she continued at her current pace, she might reach [A-Class] within a decade. That was an incredibly fast timeline —for humans, progression to A-Class typically required decades of dedicated effort, barring exceptional circumstances or discoveries.

  He set aside the Gazette, his attention caught by a buzz of excitement from a nearby table where merchants were engaged in animated discussion.

  'It's confirmed then?' asked one, a portly man with an elaborately waxed moustache. 'The [S-Class] realm in the Storm Shores?'

  'Beyond doubt,' replied his companion, leaning forward eagerly. 'My cousin's on the Adventurer Guild's council. They've posted it officially—Archmage Veridian's ancient laboratory, emerging after centuries beneath the waves.'

  'Veridian!' exclaimed a third merchant. 'The alchemist who revolutionised human alchemy? The secrets in such a place would be beyond price!'

  Tavalor's interest was piqued. He sipped his brew, affecting casual indifference while listening intently.

  He turned his attention to the window, observing the unusual activity at Vallenport's ports.

  Ships of various designs crowded the docks, flying flags from all corners of the known world. Elven vessels with their characteristic silver sails moored alongside sturdy dwarven crafts and the elegant ships of human nobility.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  They were probably here refuelling on the way to the Storm Shores. Vallenport was the last port of call before heading out into the extremes of the Storm Shores.

  The weather was so deadly, extreme stores, murderous spirit creatures and elementals were also hazards. Half the ships barely made it back.

  Reminds me of those cultivation novels he thought wryly. The increase in activity like this signals a massive treasure hunt rather than official business.

  Greed drove much of the behaviour in the world of cultivation. Fifty percent of that behaviour was an endless battle for resources. The other fifty percent was trying to turn those resources into strength as fast as possible.

  His musings were interrupted by the café door swinging open, the bell chiming as Luneth entered. She looked slightly dishevelled, her usual grace compromised by obvious haste.

  'There you are,' she said, sliding into the seat opposite him. 'I've been looking everywhere.'

  Tavalor raised an eyebrow. 'What's the rush?'

  'That person is looking for you again,' Luneth said, keeping her voice low.

  'That person?' he thought back the only person who had visited him was 'Captain Lyrawyn? I thought I made it clear last time that she should stay away.'

  Tavalor was annoyed.

  Luneth's lips quirked into a half-smile. 'She's persistent. And this time, she's brought gifts—two pots of 300-year-old spirit wine.'

  Despite himself, Tavalor's interest perked up. 'Spirit wine? The genuine article?'

  'Sealed with the mark of the Silverleaf Vineyards,' Luneth confirmed. 'I know you have a weakness for their brew.'

  Not really. Tavalor thought. However, this was free 300-year-old spirit wine.

  Tavalor sighed deeply. 'Fine. Tell her she can meet me at the manor this afternoon. But only because of the wine.'

  Luneth's smile widened. 'I thought that might persuade you.'

  Little Shadow stirred within Tavalor's cloak, projecting a brief image of Captain Lyrawyn from their previous encounter—tall, elegant, with silver-blue armour and platinum hair that fell to her waist.

  'Yes, that's the one,' Tavalor confirmed quietly. 'Always with some urgent mission or request.'

  'She mentioned something about an [S-Class] realm,' Luneth added. 'I think it's related to what everyone's talking about—Veridian's laboratory.'

  Tavalor drained the last of his Calming Brew. 'We'll see what she has to say. But I'm not promising anything.'

  ***

  Despite his reservations, Tavalor and Luneth found themselves receiving Captain Lyrawyn in the manor's drawing room later that day.

  The Butler led her into the room, then excused himself with a nod.

  The elven captain, resplendent in her ceremonial armour, performed the formal elven greeting with fluid grace, then presented the promised spirit wine with both hands.

  'Lord Tavalor,' she said, her voice melodious but formal, 'I bring greetings from my master, and these humble gifts as a token of respect.'

  Tavalor accepted the wine with appropriate gravity. The pots were crafted from special clay that preserved the spirit essence, their seals glowing faintly with preservation magic.

  'Your gifts are appreciated, Captain,' he replied, setting the wine aside. 'Now, what brings you to my doorstep yet again?' he said his voice filled with a slight annoyance.

  Captain Lyrawyn straightened, adjusting her posture in the formal manner of elven diplomacy. 'My master has sent me to train near the soon-to-appear [A-Class] Realm in the Storm Shores. As you may know, its imminent opening has caused quite a stir among many factions.'

  'I've only followed gossip rather than official news,' Tavalor admitted, gesturing for her to sit. 'I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the details.'

  The captain's eyes widened slightly, genuine surprise breaking through her formal demeanour. 'You haven't heard? I would have thought, given your... standing, that you would be well-informed about such matters.'

  Tavalor shrugged. 'I prefer to focus on my own affairs. But since you're here, enlighten me.'

  Captain Lyrawyn composed herself quickly. 'Of course. The [S-Class] Realm is believed to contain the accumulated wealth and knowledge of Archmage Veridian, who dominated human magical development during the Post Meteor Era.'

  Luneth, who had been quietly observing from a corner of the room, leaned forward with sudden interest. 'Veridian? The father of modern human alchemy?'

  'The very same,' Captain Lyrawyn confirmed. 'His realm allegedly holds the foundational texts of human alchemy, spell formulations lost to time, and experimental results never shared with the world.'

  'We should investigate immediately,' Luneth declared, her eyes alight with scholarly enthusiasm. 'Such artifacts are invaluable historical treasures!'

  Nothing interesting. Tavalor thought to himself.

  Tavalor responded in an unimpressed manner: 'Ancient texts and obsolete spells? Hardly seems worth the journey.'

  Captain Lyrawyn's lips curved into a knowing smile. 'There's more, Lord Tavalor. The realm is said to contain magical fruit trees unlike any found elsewhere in the known world—trees that produce fruits with extraordinary properties.'

  At this, Tavalor's demeanour changed completely. He sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing with sudden intensity. 'What kind of fruits?'

  'According to records,' Captain Lyrawyn continued, clearly pleased to have captured his interest, 'Veridian cultivated species that could enhance magical aptitude, extend lifespan, or even grant temporary abilities beyond one's natural capacity.'

  This would be perfect for Little Shadow. He thought to himself. After all, he had started to evolve with a little bit of honey from Little Bee's and this was with some random spirit liquid.

  'And these fruits still exist after all this time?'

  'If the preservation spells held,' the captain replied. 'Veridian was known for his mastery of temporal magic as well as alchemy. It's entirely possible that within his realm, time itself has flowed differently.'

  Luneth glanced at Tavalor, recognising the glint in his eye. 'You're interested now, aren't you?'

  'Maybe,' Tavalor conceded, trying to sound non-committal. 'Continue, Captain.'

  Captain Lyrawyn nodded. 'The [S-Class] Realm's seal has loosened nearly a year after its initial discovery. Spatial fluctuations have been confirmed by major faction leaders who have investigated personally. They found that the seal restricts all cultivators above the [B-Class] realm.'

  Only [B-Class] and below can enter?? Possible Scam?

  He didn't let the thought show on his face.

  'To prevent conflicts, they've allowed all cultivators to freely enter the realm.' She finished.

  'Turning it into a competition among younger disciples rather than direct confrontation between major powers,' Luneth surmised. 'Clever.'

  'Precisely,' Captain Lyrawyn said. 'Each faction sends their promising youngsters, hoping to secure advantages without risking open warfare between the greater powers.'

  Tavalor drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair, considering. Then, abruptly, he stood. 'I've decided. We're going to the Storm Shores.'

  Captain Lyrawyn blinked in surprise. 'We?'

  'You'll take me there,' Tavalor declared. 'I want to see these fruit trees for myself.'

  'But the restrictions—' she began.

  'Not a problem,' Tavalor cut her off. 'I'll handle any complications.'

  Little Shadow emerged from its hiding place, chirping excitedly as it circled Tavalor's head. The [Dragon Eye] at its centre glowed brightly, suggesting it had been following the conversation with keen interest.

  'When can we depart?'

  Captain Lyrawyn, recognising the futility of arguing, bowed her head. 'My ship is ready whenever you are, Lord Tavalor.'

  'Excellent. We leave at dawn.'

  ***

  Before their departure, Tavalor spent the evening establishing additional protections around his manor.

  Using [Intimidation], he created an aura of dread that permeated the grounds—subtle enough not to harm innocent visitors, but powerful enough to deter any opportunists who might take advantage of his absence.

  He also prepared a disguise, using his transformation ability to dull his draconic features and change his eye colour from ruby red to a more mundane brown. The horns that usually protruded from his forehead were reduced to barely noticeable bumps, and his sharp features softened slightly. His ears grew longer.

  He transformed into an elf.

  More specifically, a moon elf like Luneth.

  So far Tavalor had only come across a handful of elves and each had a unique beauty.

  There were two main species who lived on the Elven Continent. The High Elves and the Wood Elves.

  The High elves had blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and pale skin. Lyra from the Starlight Twins was a High Elf. Like a classic LOTR type of elf.

  The Wood Elves had green hair and copper-bronze skin. Mira, the other Starlight Twin, was a Wood Elf.

  Outside of the main two groups were the the Moon Elves. Like Luneth. Any of the elves who had seen Luneth had been surprised to see one, as they never left the Lunar isles. Where that was, nobody knew.

  Tavalor perfectly matched the aesthetics of the Moon Elves. He had pale skin, delicate features, log black hair and goldfish brown eyes. A perfect match.

  'There,' he said, examining his reflection in a mirror. 'Nothing remarkable about me now.'

  Little Shadow chirped disapprovingly, projecting an image that showed Tavalor as he usually appeared—tall, imposing, with an aura of power that commanded respect.

  'That's the point,' Tavalor explained. 'I don't want to be recognised. Better to observe from the background first, then decide how to proceed.'

  Little Shadow seemed unconvinced but settled on his shoulder nonetheless, nestling against his neck.

  Despite Tavalor's initial insistence that the creature remain behind to guard the manor, Little Shadow had made it abundantly clear that it intended to accompany him, refusing to leave his side all evening.

  'Fine,' Tavalor had eventually conceded. 'But stay hidden unless I say otherwise. We don't need any more attention than necessary.'

  When dawn broke, they met Captain Lyrawyn at the private docks reserved for diplomatic vessels.

  Her ship was unlike the typical vessels that plied Vallenport's waters—a massive silver structure resembling a gigantic leaf, its surface etched with elven runes that glowed softly in the morning light.

  It was a ship headed for the Storm Shores after all. They were all weird looking.

  'An air-transportation artifact,' Tavalor observed with appreciation. 'High-grade, if I'm not mistaken.'

  'One of our finest,' Captain Lyrawyn agreed, leading them up a graceful gangplank that materialised as they approached. 'It will make the journey in a fraction of the time a conventional ship would require.'

  Aboard, they found a dozen other elven disciples preparing for the expedition. Young by elven standards—perhaps only a century or two old—they radiated the eager energy of those about to embark on their first great adventure. They greeted Captain Lyrawyn with respect, then regarded Tavalor with undisguised curiosity.

  'Who's the moon elf?' one whispered, not quite softly enough.

  'A special guest,' Captain Lyrawyn replied smoothly. 'He will be accompanying our expedition as an observer.' Her cold voice cut off any lingering questions.

  The silver vessel rose into the air with barely a sound, its enchanted surface gliding through clouds as it accelerated toward the Storm Shores. Despite the speed, the journey remained remarkably comfortable, with none of the turbulence one might expect from conventional flight.

  Throughout the day, Tavalor observed the elven disciples as they prepared for the coming challenge. They discussed strategies in musical voices, debated the rumoured treasures of Veridian's realm, and practised combat formations that relied heavily on coordination rather than raw power.

  They used an ancient magic as well. No reliance on magic circles.

  Despite his disguise, Tavalor's innate presence still attracted attention. Two female elven cultivators in particular seemed fascinated by him, approaching during the midday meal with transparent attempts at casual conversation.

  'You must be quite accomplished to join Captain Lyrawyn's expedition,' one said, her silver hair braided with enchanted flowers that changed colour with her mood. 'What are the Lunar Realms like?'

  'I prefer not to discuss my origins,' Tavalor replied politely but firmly. 'I'm merely here to observe.'

  The second elf, with eyes like polished jade, leaned closer. 'You have an unusual aura for an elf. Almost... ancient.'

  Little Shadow, hidden within Tavalor's cloak, stirred restlessly at the scrutiny. Tavalor felt it growing warmer against his skin, as if preparing to emerge and challenge the intrusive questions.

  'Not now,' he murmured, so softly that only Little Shadow could hear. Then, louder: 'If you'll excuse me, I should speak with the Captain about our arrival.'

  He found Captain Lyrawyn at the bow of the vessel, her gaze fixed on the horizon where dark clouds gathered.

  'The Storm Shores,' she said as he approached. 'We're nearly there.'

  'Tell me about the potential situation,' Tavalor requested. 'Who else will be competing for access to this realm?'

  Captain Lyrawyn folded her hands behind her back. 'Representatives from all major human kingdoms, naturally. Several elven houses besides our own. The dwarven clans have sent small contingents, though they tend to prefer mineral wealth to magical secrets. There are even rumours of emissaries from the eastern continents.'

  'And they've all agreed to the restrictions? Only those below B-Class may enter? The won't block the doors?'

  'In theory,' she replied, her tone suggesting scepticism. 'In practice, many factions will have hidden their true strengths. The Storm Shores are notorious for being a place with no rules.'

  Tavalor nodded thoughtfully.

  As they spoke, the silver vessel began its descent toward a mountain range where violent weather perpetually battered the coastline. Lightning split the sky in jagged patterns, while massive waves crashed against sheer cliffs with enough force to send spray hundreds of metres into the air.

  From their aerial vantage point, they could see hundreds of spirit artifacts and temporary settlements established along the coastline.

  The encampments formed a rough semicircle around a massive whirlpool of energy that occasionally flashed with alchemical symbols—the entrance to Veridian's realm.

  'Look at them all,' Luneth said, joining them at the bow. 'Like moths to a flame.'

  'Look at them all,' Luneth said, joining them at the bow. 'Like moths to a flame.'

  'Indeed,' Captain Lyrawyn agreed. 'And the flame will consume many before this is done.'

  They landed on a relatively sheltered plateau where other elven vessels were already moored. As they disembarked, Tavalor was struck by the bustling atmosphere of what had essentially become a temporary town.

  Cultivators from diverse backgrounds mingled in tense coexistence, merchants had set up stalls selling equipment designed specifically for dungeon exploration, and information brokers did brisk business trading secrets about the realm's rumoured layout.

  'We'll establish our base here,' Captain Lyrawyn announced to her disciples. 'Scout the surroundings but avoid confrontations. We seek knowledge, not conflict.'

  As the others dispersed to their assigned tasks, Tavalor found himself drawn to the cliff edge, staring out at the churning sea.

  During lightning strikes, with his [Dragon Sight] he caught glimpses of what lay beneath the whirlpool—a massive underwater palace of jade and crystal.

  Little Shadow emerged partially from his cloak, its violet eyes fixed on the same spectacle. It chirped questioningly, projecting an image of them diving into the maelstrom.

  'Be cool,' Tavalor murmured. 'First, we learn what we can. Then, we claim what is ours.'

  Behind him, cultivators continued to arrive from all corners of the world, their varied powers creating a tapestry of magical energies that even an experienced being like Tavalor found impressive.

  The gathering storm matched the growing tension on the shore—a confluence of ambition, greed, and power that promised both opportunity and danger.