A misty morning at the base of a rocky mountain, dozens of armed groups gathered as they looked through their equipment and supplies in preparation for their journey.

Despite their number, an unusually tense and quiet atmosphere permeated throughout the camp.

With the sudden sound of rushing wind, the tension dimmed as the parties looked towards the sky in anticipation, hoping to see the source.

“You always have a way of making an entrance, don’t you, old boy?”

The others turned towards the direction Loen called out to and saw the figure of a man seemingly standing in the sky. The figure then slowly made its descent, each foot moving below the other as though he were going down a flight of stairs.

“An old mage has to have his tricks in looking grand, especially one of my repute, don’t you agree?” chuckled Jortus as he descended to the ground and reached out his hand.

“I’d say it could’ve used a little more flair, especially given your specialty. You never really came off as the graceful mysterious type.” Loen grinned as he reached for his friend’s hand.

“Bah, young’uns these days have no taste for class. It’s always the boom and bang with them; no consideration for my old bones.”

Loen shook his head as he knew the old mage’s true nature. If anything, his magical specialties were the very image of “boom” and “bang” as he had just so described.

Jortus looked towards the people behind Loen and let out a breath as his face hardened. “So… this is all that’s available to us.” He voiced rather than questioned.

“Yes.” responded Loen with a nod. “This is the most the Guild can gather at the moment. Even if we had more, we can’t afford risking too many crossing the Spine.”

“Oh, the dangers of the Spine are of no concern as long as we follow proper decorum. Granted, the wildlings there would be curious, but should pose no problem with the right offering. And I happen to know their favorite.” gestured Jortus with a knowing smile. His expression then turned serious as he looked beyond the ridge, “The problem lies with what we’re up against… “

Sighing at Jortus’ words, Loen grumbled “Niskarii…”

Shaking his head, Jortus turned towards him with eyes of melancholy, “Not just any Niskari. From what I gathered from the fae, the hollow of the Red King was nourished. The Red King, as he is called by the fae, is a Niskari Lord. And not just any lord… to us, he is infamously known… as Bolragmal.”

Loen stiffened at the mention of the name and turned to Jortus, “B-Bolragmal? That Bolragmal!? The named Niskari that once almost brought down the capital of Albirion!?”

“The very same. All those years ago, the amount of blood he had consumed gave him enough power to resist whatever means we tried to end him. Having driven him to the Faelands, it is there that together with the fae we were able to seal him, letting his powers drain out through time until he’d weaken enough that we’d be able to finish him off for good.”

Jortus let out a deep sigh as he continued, “I faced him way before I was at my prime and now his seal has broken long after I’ve passed it. From the amount of time that’s passed, destroying his physical vessel at the current state would require the power of at least three of the five Grand Mages, but here there’s only me, a retired Grand Mage nominee. Fate has a funny way of dealing out our hand, wouldn’t you say?”

Staring at Jortus with a grim expression, Loen shook his head as he deeply sighed, “I see your sense of humor isn’t lost to you yet despite the situation.”

“Ha! When you get to my age, notions of impending doom are just boring talk.” Guffawed Jortus. “It’s the young’uns who’ve yet to taste life that needs to look out for their futures.”

Crossing his arms, his voiced turned stern once again, “In any case, as long as we work it out with the fae, we should be able to make due. The Fae Lords are just as prominent as the Grand Mages, if not more powerful than some. What they lack in magical finesse and refinement they make do with pure magical prowess and overwhelming mana. If it’s simply to finely control and direct that power, that is where I come in.”

“You’d know, old mage. Only you have ever dealt so closely with the fae.”

“Indeed, I do!” Gestured Jortus merrily. His brows soon furrowed, however, when he felt an indescribable sensation with the mana in the air.

“I sense an unfamiliar aura among our colleagues here.”

Loen looked up at Jortus in confusion at first, but then understood when he realized what he meant.

“You must mean the new mage. He’s a half-elf by the name of Hox. He’s a promising newcomer under Gern’s band along with a halfling, and a hume girl. The three of them have only been around a month or so, but their record’s clean. My only complaint is that Gern got to them first.”

“Ah.” Jortus eyed the mage in question and nodded. “Not bad. Not many mages choose the adventurer’s life, but we’ll need all the magical help we can get.”

The band got ready to depart. Now that Jortus had arrived, their preparations were as good as they could get. Even with his presence, however, it didn’t alleviate all of their fears.

The Niskarii have carved their presence so deeply into the minds and hearts of the people of this world that the mere mention of their name has brought out the worst of fears and imaginations.

Very few can stand resolute before them, and even less who could laugh when facing them. That is why they waited despite wasting precious days. Knowing that Jortus is with them have given them some hope.

Hope… they badly needed in the face of their odds. Normally, a Niskari threat would require the involvement of all powers within a region to act. The problem lay in the fact that the threat is emanating close to the heart of Prismordia.

The land itself was designated as an extreme hazard zone with multiple restrictions and procedures in place. It was mostly uncharted and filled with dangers that could even be considered catastrophic to an entire nation.

Usually, the rule of thumb was that should any threat arise in Prismordia, it was to be held off at the boundaries and either resolved before it could touch national borders, or let nature take its course as most of the dangers tend to be taken care of by the creatures or the land itself.

This time, however, because it’s the Niskarii, the powers that be cannot ignore their presence even in such a dangerous land. But due to the unprecedented situation, they could not act rashly.

A great expeditionary force would not go unnoticed in Prismordia. The slumbering powers there may wake and take action due to a force so large being perceived as a threat. Aside from its denizens, the land itself has been known to be unpredictable as well, being able to swallow up thousands in catastrophic events according to past records.

The current expeditionary force was the vanguard. Their numbers a result of the rush and urgency of their situation by their affiliations. They were among the elite of their forces, but even then, their position meant the greatest casualties and sacrifice.

There was little choice. They would either go and stave off the threat before the bulk of their main forces arrive or let the enemy’s powers grow until it could no longer be stopped from consuming the world. The fate of their kingdoms lay on their hands.

***

Sunlight streamed down from the canopies along with the sound of flowing water as the humidity in the air rose. It had been three days since the changeling and its little group left their valley and had entered a new region filled with more strange and vivid plant life along a wide river. The vitality of this region was astounding seeing that there were much more variations in the creatures living here.

Despite their travels, they encountered relatively few problems. Apart from a few wargscales and some small raptor-like creatures, the trip had been mostly uneventful. If anything, it was beneficial to the growth of the two pups.

In the few days of their trip, the two wolf siblings have shown remarkable skills and have significantly grown. Regular wargscales were almost three times their size, yet they were capable of easily taking down a small group by working together and using their strengths in harmony with each of their abilities.

Perhaps it was due to their parents, but they showed proficient use of their mana and managed to use skills that defied the rules of physics that the changeling had come to know.

For one, it understood that no matter a creature’s strength, if it didn’t have the proper mass then it shouldn’t be able to overcome the limitations of its strength against an opponent with even more mass.

In other words, not even the strongest lion would be able to overpower a full-grown elephant when facing it alone.

There are exceptions to this rule of course, but it had never seen one so absurd as the black wolf sibling being able to take head-on the reckless charge of a wargscale three times its size.

Just as the wargscale was about to trample the black wolf pup, energy visibly surged around its body as black shell-like plates covered regions of its body like armor. As soon as the tip of the wargscale’s shelled head was within reach, black steel-like fangs clamped down and caught it.

The power in the fangs were so great, they managed to penetrate the thickest part of the wargscale’s armored shell, the pointed tip of its head.

As soon as the shell was in its fangs, the black wolf tensed up and restrained the charging beast. The charging wargscale’s momentum was instantly stopped while the black pup firmly held its ground. Unable to continue its charge, the black wolf lifted up the large armored beast leaving it to flail helplessly in the air.

This show of power beyond one’s obvious physical limits just proved once more how absurd magic was to the changeling.

As if to compliment its black sibling’s power, the white pup appeared from above; lifting an optical camouflage that seemed to bend light while floating in midair and gathered mana into spheres around itself. A crystalline blue horn shone on its forehead as it was gathering energy, and soon it was let loose. Sensing the ripples in the air, the changeling could discern invisible projectiles impacting the flailing wargscale.

After a few seconds, the light in the wargscale’s eyes died out and its flailing stopped while blood pooled onto the ground, pouring out from cuts all over its body. It was as if it was shredded by invisible blades.

The skill disparity between the two wolf siblings was incredibly wide. The black wolf had immense physical attributes that were empowered further by being able to manipulate mana within itself to enhance and modify its own body. This allowed it to be able to physically face creatures several times its own size and capacity.

The white sibling on the other hand was incredibly proficient at manipulating the mana around it. While not as physically domineering as its black sibling, its magical prowess allowed it to control the situation and strike decisively. Seeing how well they complimented each other, it’s almost as if they were intentionally designed.

The changeling found it odd how their abilities seemed to take such extreme disparities from each other considering they were siblings. It also found it amusing that the white sibling seemed to be unlocking the growth potential of its own species, while the black one seemed to be adapting the traits of the species that diverged from the path of its evolutionary ancestors. In other words, adapting the scale-like armor of the wargscales that evolved from wolves.

It didn’t know if it was because of its attempt to modify the two or when it rejuvenated them, but something definitely affected their potential for growth.

Seeing one of their own being dispatched so easily, the remaining wargscales appeared more wary, but something strange happened as they suddenly took a step back and ran the opposite direction.

The changeling was scratching its head in confusion when the little green ball on its head started shaking and kept tapping its head to point it towards a certain direction.

What met the changeling’s view, was a gigantic eye surrounded by four smaller eyes and a massive maw filled with rows of hundreds of teeth.

***