Crestmoore, a bustling trade hub nestled in the Valthorne region of Solaria's kingdom, simmered down from the Starveil Auction's historic chaos. Unlike grander trade centers like Arenton or Hisar, Crestmoore's cobblestone streets and crystal-spired auction house held a rugged charm, now quieting as caravans departed. Draconians, their scales glinting like molten Aurorium, hauled Fire Qi forges south, while merrow traders folded Water Qi mist stalls, their pearls tucked into spatial rings. Gnome tinkerers, Lightning Qi sparking from wiry beards, packed whirring gadgets, and beastkin mercenaries slung Ice Qi axes over furry shoulders. A few lingered—Night Elves cloaked in Mist Shadow, haggling for Zenoite scraps, and Ether Nomads, Nature Qi trailing like vines, bartering herbs. Cultivators from Beginner Novice to Heavenly Lord dotted the city, some soaring on flight arrays, their Middle Great Legend cultivation slicing the dawn mist. The air hummed with Basic Elements (Fire, Water), Advanced Elements (Ice, Lava), and rare Legendary Elements (Star, Crystal), but none dared flaunt the forbidden Chaos or Ether.
Killyaen, the qi-blind elf cursed by N'Nazmuz, woke in his room at The Iron Bloom, the tavern's ale-soaked floor creaking under his curse's pressure. His Starforged Tunic, Rare-grade, Star Qi, shimmered, its radiant threads boosting his reflexes and amplifying his Heaven Splitter technique.
In the tavern's courtyard, his morning training tested the tunic's power. Swinging his repaired Pyroclast dual swords, Rare-grade, Fire Qi, he carved starlight arcs, the tunic's Star Qi lightening the curse's drag by a fraction, letting him chain Vortex slashes faster. A spinning strike unleashed a blinding starburst, scorching a straw dummy's head clean off. "This tunic's a bloody supernova," he grinned, sweat matting his gold-tipped braid. The curse slowed his footwork, but the tunic's glow enhanced his aim, letting him hurl a Zenoite pebble with pinpoint accuracy, shattering a distant bottle. "Tira'd burn with envy," he muttered, picturing her fiery glare.
His training faltered as worry spiked. Eight days ago, Bera (Middle Master Fire), Tira (Beginner Grand Master Fire), and Lila (Middle Master Earth) had ventured into a newly opened Ice Dungeon in Valthorne's frostbitten wilds, chasing rumors of an Icebloom Cache. Their absence gnawed at him, his lustful narration—"Bera's blazing hips, Tira's tattooed canyon, Lila's Zenoite cliffs"—mixing with rare concern. "Eight days in an ice trap? Even Bera's fire can't melt that long," he grumbled, sheathing his swords. Varkoth, his Peak Scholar Darkness Basilisk Emperor, coiled as a Shadowveil bracer, hissed silently, his unscannable aura prickling the air. Killyaen donned his Shadowveil Cloak, Legendary-grade, Darkness Qi, but kept its folds tucked to avoid drawing eyes in Crestmoore. "I'll test this beauty outside town," he vowed, his scavenging greed itching for action.
He first trekked to the Mercenary Sect hall, its stone walls etched with Star Qi runes. Elder Sani, Peak Master Lightning sat reviewing maps, his aura crackling. "Sani, you old spark, any word on my girls—Bera, Tira, Lila—in that Ice Dungeon?" Killyaen asked, tossing a crude jest. Sani's Lightning Qi flared, singeing a scroll. "Prankster, they were spotted five days ago near the dungeon's entrance, Fire and Earth Qi flaring. Nothing since. Ice Qi barriers seal it—needs a Heavenly Sage or strange runes to crack." Killyaen's High Elven fluency twitched, a secret buried deep. "Strange runes, eh? My girls are tougher than a Krovar's hide. What's in there?" Sani frowned. "Middle Expert Ice Wraiths, Beginner Scholar Frost Wyrms, maybe a Peak Master Ice Golem or a Drake. Dangerous for Masters." Killyaen's grin hid worry. "They're roasting those beasts, bet on it." He tossed a Level 3 Spirit Stone, dodging a spark as he left.
Next, he hit the Beast Tamer Guild, where Stinky, his Peak Novice Earth beetle, head-sized and pulsing jade-green, gnawed Crystal Worm dung in a pen. Elder Korn, Peak Scholar Wood, tossed in more dung. "He's close to Expert, elf. Needs a bigger pen." Killyaen rented a reinforced pen for 50 Level 1 Spirit Stones, boasting, "Stinky's my empire, shinier than Bera's melons!" Varkoth snapped at smoked Gromble meat, his jealousy palpable. Korn mentioned the Ice Dungeon, noting rumors of Middle Expert Ice Scorpions. "I'm heading there to tame one with Expert cultivation. Want in?" Killyaen nodded, worry spiking. "My girls are in there. Count me in." He paid 20 Level 2 Spirit Stones for extra dung, his spatial ring lighter.
Back at The Iron Bloom, Killyaen recruited Zephyr, now Beginner Grand Master Darkness after a breakthrough, and Jogen, Beginner Master Wind. Zephyr's singed tail twitched. "Perverted Elf, your girls got themselves iced? I'm in." Jogen, blushing, nodded. "For Bera, I'll go." The team—Killyaen, Varkoth, Zephyr, Jogen, and Korn—set out at dusk, Crestmoore's gates fading behind them.
Killyaen tested his Shadowveil Cloak outside town, its Darkness Qi shrouding him in near-invisibility, perfect for ambushes. "This'll prank a Wyrm senseless," he chuckled, tucking it back.
The Ice Dungeon's entrance, a jagged maw in Valthorne's frozen cliffs, pulsed with Ice Qi. Korn led, his Wood Qi vines probing traps. Middle Expert Ice Wraiths swarmed first, their spectral forms hurling frost shards. Killyaen's Starforged Tunic flared, blinding two Wraiths as his Pyroclast swords slashed, Fire Qi melting their cores. Zephyr's Umbral Fang shredded three, while Jogen's Wind Qi spear pierced another. Korn's vines crushed the rest, looting 10 Level 2 Spirit Stones and an Ice Qi shard.
Deeper in, Beginner Scholar Frost Wyrms lunged, their icy breath freezing Jogen's arm. Varkoth's Dread Glare (0.7-second stun) stalled them, letting Killyaen's Heaven Splitter cleave a Wyrm's head, the curse's strength shattering ice. Zephyr and Korn dispatched the rest, looting 15 Level 2 Spirit Stones and a Frostfang (20 Level 2 Spirit Stones).
Korn spotted a Middle Scholar Ice Scorpion, its pincers glinting. "My prize," he growled, weaving Wood Qi vines to bind it. The beast's tail lashed, snapping vines and grazing Korn's shoulder. Killyaen's tunic flared, distracting it, while Zephyr's shadow blades chipped its shell. Jogen's spear missed, his nerves fraying. Korn, sweating, spent an hour weaving calming Wood Qi runes, finally taming the scorpion. He stored it in a Beast Ring, explaining, "Guild sells these—holds non-sentient beasts up to Peak Scholar. Costs 50 Level 3 Spirit Stones." Killyaen's greed sparked. "Stinky in a ring? My empire's mobile!"
Deeper in, the dungeon's floor room loomed—a frozen chamber pulsing with Ice Qi runes Killyaen couldn't read, his High Elven fluency useless against "weird squiggles." A trap triggered, and five Middle Master Ice Golems, sentient and towering, ambushed them. Their frost-encrusted fists smashed the ground, sending ice shards flying. Killyaen's tunic flared, its Star Qi blinding one Golem as he dodged a crushing blow, the curse slowing his leap. His Pyroclast swords slashed, Fire Qi chipping a Golem's arm, but its counterpunch grazed his ribs, cracking one. Zephyr's Umbral Shroud cloaked him, his shadow blades slicing a Golem's leg, but a backhand sent him skidding, blood dripping from his muzzle. Korn's vines entangled another, his Wood Qi straining as the Golem's frost aura froze them brittle. Jogen, trembling, hurled a Wind Qi spear, piercing a Golem's eye, but the beast roared, unfazed.
Killyaen roared, "Varkoth, now!" The basilisk uncoiled, his two-meter form a shadow of terror. His Dread Glare stunned two Golems, their icy eyes glazing. Killyaen's curse-fueled fist smashed one's chest, shards exploding, while Zephyr's blades gutted another. Korn's vines crushed a third, looting 20 Level 3 Spirit Stones and an Ice Core (30 Level 3 Spirit Stones).
The fourth Golem fell to Killyaen's Heaven Splitter, his tunic's starburst blinding it as his swords carved its core, blood mixing with frost on his braid. But the fifth Golem, its aura surging, targeted Jogen. The Jogen's spear missed, his Wind Qi faltering. The Golem's fist slammed down, crushing Jogen into the ice. A sickening crunch echoed, his body reduced to a puddle of blood and splintered bones, his spear clattering uselessly. Killyaen froze, his gold-flecked eyes wide, the curse's weight nothing compared to the horror.
"Jogen!" he screamed, voice raw.Varkoth, wounded by a frost shard in his flank, lunged, his Shadow Bind wrapping the Golem's legs. Killyaen, rage overtaking grief, hurled a Zenoite barbed net, tangling the beast. His tunic flared, blinding it, as his curse-powered fist caved its skull, ice and blood spraying. Zephyr's blades finished it, looting 10 Level 3 Spirit Stones. Korn, pale, clutched his bleeding shoulder. Varkoth's scales dripped black ichor, his hiss weak.
Exhausted and battered, they found no trace of Bera, Tira, or Lila, only Ice Qi runes pulsing mockingly. "They're deeper," Killyaen growled, but Korn shook his head. "We're half-dead. Retreat." Varkoth's glare agreed, his wound slowing him. They fled, the dungeon's chill biting their wounds.
Back in Crestmoore, The Iron Bloom was silent. Killyaen, Zephyr, and Korn sat, pints untouched, Jogen's death a specter. Killyaen's Starforged Tunic, bloodstained, dimmed under his grief. His narration, usually lustful, was mute—no quips about Bera's hips or Tira's tattoo. Zephyr's tail hung limp, his "Perverted Elf" jests gone. Korn stared at his Beast Ring, the scorpion's faint hum a hollow victory. The tavern's crowd, sensing their mood, left them alone, no coins tossed, no chants raised.
Killyaen trudged to his room, the curse's 30 kg weight a feather compared to Jogen's crushed form replaying in his mind. He collapsed on his bed, the Shadowveil Cloak draped over a chair, its Darkness Qi unused. Sleep refused him, his masochistic cackle silenced. For the first time, the Supreme Prankster felt loss—Jogen's shy blush, his spear's growth, gone in a bloody instant. "I should've been faster," he whispered, the curse's faint healing easing his ribs but not his heart. His spatial ring held loot—60 Level 3, 45 Level 2 Spirit Stones, an Ice Core, a Frostfang—but it felt empty without Jogen's nervous grin.