The spirit vessels touched down just outside the corrupted zone known as Hollow Vale. The moment Lucas stepped onto the moss-laced stone, he felt it — an oppressive weight in the air. The spirit force here was wrong: dense, cold, and twitching like a living thing.
A makeshift perimeter had been established by the academy's elite graduates — veterans who had survived at least one full rift collapse. Their armor bore scars of flame and claw. Their eyes were weary, focused, and sharper than most blades.
Introductions were swift:
Captain Ren Aldros, 8-star wind-type dual-saber wielder. Commanding presence, direct, and pragmatic.
Veyla Seran, 7-star beast-tamer, aloof and masked by a polite smile.
Orin Valeheart, 8-star shadow wielder, quiet and courteous, almost too courteous.
Drel Murn, 7-star earth-forger, bulky and ever-smiling, but eyes too calculating when they landed on Lucas.
The graduates bowed respectfully, but only superficially. When Captain Ren turned away, Lucas caught Veyla whispering something to Orin, too faint for most ears — but not his.
> "Watch him. Seren said the eclipse flame isn't stable yet."
Lucas's eyes narrowed.
Elira, standing beside him, leaned slightly closer. "You heard it too."
He nodded once.
"They're Julius-affiliated. Quiet operatives. Not full loyalty, but influenced."
Lucas scanned the camp again, this time through a colder lens.
> Not enemies. Not yet. But not allies either.
---
The team began their final briefing under the fractured sky.
Ren projected a rotating map of Hollow Vale. "The dungeon zone warps every twelve hours. Inside, do not split from your soul beacon team unless ordered. We'll escort you to the threshold, but entry and core stabilization will be your responsibility."
Kael cracked his neck. "Just open the gate. We'll handle the rest."
Ren frowned. "This isn't a spar, Valen. This is living corruption."
Lucas stared at the dark fissure miles ahead. "Then we'll fight like we're alive."
---
The march to the rift was eerily quiet. No birds, no insects — only distant cries that sounded almost human. The forest twisted the deeper they went. Trees grew in spirals, and the ground pulsed like a heartbeat.
Seren Julius, walking calmly with her hands folded behind her, whispered to Elira without looking.
"You're watching him too, aren't you?"
Elira didn't reply.
Seren smiled. "Be careful. The stronger the flame, the more it consumes."
---
As the group passed a broken shrine half-swallowed by vines, Drel Murn lagged behind slightly. Lucas noticed his hand brushing a glyph on the stone.
Nothing happened — but the glyph pulsed faintly red before fading.
Lucas didn't say a word.
Elayne stepped beside him. "Trouble?"
"Not yet. But we're not alone in this dungeon. Not really."
She didn't press further.
---
At last, they stood before it: a spiral wound in the air, ten meters tall, leaking black mist and flickering between reality and nightmare.
The entrance to Hollow Vale.
From within, a howl echoed — ancient, hollow, and full of longing.
Ren stepped forward. "This is your stop. The gate opens in one minute. Once you enter, we lose anchor contact. No outside aid."
Lucas clenched his fists. Fenrir howled softly behind him.
"Good," he said. "We don't need outside aid."
The gate began to widen, its mist peeling back like skin.
And the Crown Class stepped forward — into the unknown.