Finding Nevaramis wasn't as simple as booking an airship to a marked destination. The flying isnd shifted its position at will, appearing and disappearing without warning or pattern. People had spent lifetimes tracking its movements and still couldn't predict where it would show up next.

  It was one of those mysteries that made this world so absurdly interesting.

  But Amelia's letter had specified "central Ethenia," which gave us something to work with at least. That's why we were on our way back across the continent now—Ha-Yun had insisted on joining us after things settled down with the Third Prince situation. Her father had practically shoved her out the door, suggesting she continue her studies for now and naturally attend the academy’s event as that would be very "educational for a future empress."

  There was more to this Summer Festival than what Amelia had told me, though. A lot more. I suppose she expected me to find out about this once I'd gather with the rest of the students or, better, talk with Ha-Yun.

  Ha-Yun had received a letter from her homeroom teacher with considerably more details. As I'd initially thought, this wasn't just some school event. It was a full-blown expedition that included individuals from outside the school.

  I leaned back in my seat, watching clouds drift past the airship window. "So it's not just students," I muttered, more to myself than to Lilian, who was curled up asleep nearby. "They're letting in mercenaries and adventurers too. Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen." Ha-Yun and Sora just listened to my words.

  The soft hum of the airship's engines was now a familiar presence, resonating through the polished wooden floors and up into my boots. Through the oval windows, clouds drifted past, sometimes clearing to unveil glimpses of the distant ndscape below, resembling a child's toy set.

  According to Ha-Yun's letter, the Academy board had purchased tickets for a limited number of students—due to the scarcity of spots, only Css-S from each year would attend. That alone should have been a red fg. If they were limiting it to the strongest students, they clearly expected trouble.

  Amelia, one of the few with common sense, had apparently argued against it. She called it reckless, dangerous, and likely to kill students. But the board overruled her, seduced by whatever treasures or knowledge Nevaramis might offer. Professors would be coming too.

  She was right, of course. The board saw this as an "exploratory educational opportunity," but with mercenaries and adventurers thrown into the mix, competing for the same treasures? It would turn into a bloodbath, especially since Nevaramis was rumored to contain artifacts from civilizations long gone.

  What really bothered me, though, was the timing. This event wasn't in the original game timeline, and it would not be for years to come.

  Something had shifted, accelerated. It had to be my presence, but what did I change for it to happen? And what consequences would this bear?

  Well, thinking about it wouldn’t change anything. The invitation was there, and I could attend it if I pleased as one of the "privileged few selected to represent the Academy's excellence." So, I could just go there and seek answers myself.

  And yet, despite all that…

  I had no intention of attending.

  "I don't understand," Ha-Yun said as she sat elegantly opposite me in a VIP cafe in the airship. "You really pn to join this event in disguise? Why?"

  Indeed, I didn't pn to attend this festival. At least, not as Iskandaar Romani.

  I'd cimed a corner of this VIP cafe for our little group—a secluded spot with plush red chairs arranged around a low table. Not exactly private, but the ambient noise of the engines and the chatter of other passengers provided a decent sound barrier.

  “Iskandaar, don’t ignore me. You-”

  "More tea, honored guests?" A uniformed attendant appeared beside our table, bancing a tray of delicate porcein cups. The steaming liquid inside smelled of jasmine and some other herb I couldn't pce.

  "Yes, thank you," Ha-Yun replied with the natural grace of royalty. She'd been quiet for most of the journey, still processing the whirlwind of events from Goryeo.

  The attendant bowed and set fresh cups in front of us, accompanied by a small ptter of local delicacies—sweetened fruits from the eastern provinces, light pastries stuffed with spiced meats, and tiny rice cakes sprinkled with vibrant powders. Then, straightening up with a courteous smile, he motioned towards the spread.

  “We’re currently flying over the Taryun Province. These candied fruits come from there,” the attendant expined, his tone hushed but proud. “They’re a local specialty, made with honey and dried petals to enhance the fvor. The pastries are stuffed with spiced venison from our northern trade routes, and the rice cakes”—he nodded toward the vibrant little confections—“are the pride of the coastal towns, each dusted with different powdered beans for color and taste. I’ll be nearby if you need me.”

  He turned around and left. Lilian’s ears twitched, her nose moving, as her eyes fluttered open. She immediately reached for one of everything, her tail swishing in anticipation.

  "You're going to get fat if you keep this up," Sora teased, though she also helped herself to a rice cake.

  "No? You won’t understand. I'm a werewolf," Lilian replied through a mouthful of pastry. "We burn energy differently."

  “Iskandaar, I’m waiting.” Ha-Yun shook her head in defeat as she gave me a look.

  I sipped my tea and surveyed the cabin. This airship was roomy enough for comfort yet still bustling with a diverse crowd. Nobles cimed the prime seats at the front, while merchants and traders gathered in the center. At the rear, a group of rugged-looking individuals sat together, their worn gear and weapons slung across their backs, designating them as adventurers or mercenaries.

  One woman with a scarred face and an eyepatch caught my eye and raised her tankard in a mock toast. I nodded politely and turned away.

  “If you’re worried about my grades, it’s not going to be an issue. I think everyone will call me lucky for missing the event if my guess is correct,” I said to her, and she stared silently.

  "It's ridiculous," Ha-Yun said, as she pced a folded letter on the table—the official notice from Waybound regarding the Summer Festival. "I can't believe they're really throwing students into a free-for-all with these professionals. Heck, even the first years?!"

  "It's not that surprising," I replied, lowering my voice. "The Academy's always had a sink-or-swim philosophy. They just usually hide it better."

  "But mercenaries?" Ha-Yun's pink eyes fshed with concern. "And every random adventurer with enough coin for a ticket? People die in these competitions."

  "That's exactly the point," I said, running a finger along the rim of my cup. "It's not just about the festival. Nevaramis is rumored to contain knowledge from before the world’s end, although honestly, I doubt it. Artifacts. Magic. Things powerful enough to shift the bance of power in this world are rumored to be there. The Academy doesn't want to be left out. I think that’s why the professors are coming too. While students would be there, it’s the professors who would do most of the stuff."

  "But it’s not going to be a simple exploration if such powerful things exist there," Sora added, nodding toward the rowdy adventurers. “Not with people like that. What are the odds that cheapskate adventurers are taking an expensive airship to Ethenia when st time we didn’t see any?”

  "—finest collection of relics this side of the Barrier Peaks!" As if on cue, an adventurer’s voice carried across the cabin, basically answering her question. "Mark my words, boys, we'll be dining with kings by the time we leave that floating rock!"

  His companions cheered and raised their cups, sloshing alcohol onto the polished floor.

  Ha-Yun grimaced. "If they're all like that..."

  "There'll be blood," I agreed. "Which is why I've decided not to attend."

  Three pairs of eyes fixed on me with varying degrees of surprise.

  "Wait, are we really not going? I thought it was a joke." Sora's eyebrows shot up.

  "No," I leaned forward, lowering my voice further. "At least, not as Iskandaar Romani."

  They stared at each other, and surprisingly, understanding dawned in Lilian's ruby eyes first. "Ah. That expins a lot. Disguise!"

  Ha-Yun sighed heavily. "Is that why you asked for all those weird bck robes and masks?"

  I nodded, feeling a smirk tug at my lips.

  "We’re going to look ridiculous," Lilian snorted, reaching for another pastry. "Like some try hard from a cheap theater production."

  “Hey, you’re hurting my feelings,” I said.

  "The Bck Phantom," Sora intoned dramatically, waving her hands in mock mysticism. "Terror of the floating isle!"

  "Stop, stop," I warned, though I couldn't help but chuckle. "You're both going to be part of this 'theater production' too."

  Ha-Yun leaned forward, her expression concerned. "Since you’re going so far, I assume you’re pnning something big. But if you're caught, it could cause serious trouble for everyone. Not just you, but all of us. Is this really wise?"

  "We'll be careful," I assured her. "Besides, I really do need the disguise. There are things I need to do in Nevaramis that can't be traced back to me."

  "Like what?" Ha-Yun pressed.

  I held her gaze steadily. The atmosphere in this small space seemed to tighten. I spread my Qi to half activate [Eclipse of the Shadow Tyrant.] as we were instantly encased in a translucent bubble. "I am only telling you since you got us those outfits, so you’d know when the time comes anyway, and because I trust you... but I think I am going to kill a student. I’m serious."

  The silence that followed was thick enough to cut with a knife. Ha-Yun's face had gone pale beneath her elegant features. "But… but why?"

  "Too long to share," I replied, taking another sip of tea as if we were discussing nothing more consequential than the weather. "Don't worry, he deserves it. And it's not like I haven't killed before."

  The memory of the Holy Knight fshed through my mind—followed by the Vampires in Lockdarn along with many monsters, humanoid and otherwise. My hands weren't clean anymore, if they ever had been.

  "Your father was surprisingly supportive at the send-off," Sora said quickly, clearly trying to change the subject. I dropped the bubble. "I thought he'd be more clingy."

  The tension eased slightly as Ha-Yun smiled, though her eyes still flickered to me with uncertainty.

  "He was too busy dealing with the aftermath of the Third Prince's tantrum on a national level, and he doesn’t want me to go through it," she said. "You saw his face when Father told him the engagement was off? He turned so red I thought he might burst!"

  Lilian burst out ughing, almost falling to the floor. "I remember how he stomped his foot like a child."

  "Worse," Ha-Yun ughed. "He threatened to tell his father, like a schoolboy running to a teacher. Father just stared at him until he practically crawled out of the hall."

  As they continued trading stories, I gazed out the window. The ndscape below had changed—we were crossing the mountain range that separated east from west now, jagged peaks reaching up toward us through the cloud cover.

  The adventurers had gotten louder, sharing increasingly eborate fantasies about the treasures they'd find. One man was pantomiming fighting off monsters while his friends roared with ughter.

  "They have no idea what they're walking into," I muttered.

  "And you do?" Ha-Yun suddenly asked, turning back to me.

  I smiled.

  "Oh, don’t give me that mysterious smile, young man," she added, a hint of mischief creeping into her expression. "You can't even fly, can you? How do you pn to reach the isnd, even if you find it? Gotta have your phoenix dy carry you?"

  “....”

  ****

  The airship docked at Merasca Skyport with a gentle bump, its massive form settling against the loading ptforms with surprising grace for something so rge.

  The docking area was a flurry of activity like I’d seen in Goryeo—crew shouting orders, dockworkers securing mooring lines, and cargo handlers rolling crates down gangpnks.

  Steam hissed from valves along the ship's hull as pressure equalized, mingling with the chatter of passengers eager to disembark. From the observation deck, I watched multiple ships performing simir dances at adjacent docks—some rger, some smaller, but all contributing to the hive-like buzz of human commerce.

  We stepped into the throng of travelers descending the gangpnk, pulling our luggage along. The Skyport unfolded ahead, a vast network of ptforms, warehouses, and lively terminals. The main concourse bustled with individuals from all corners of the continent. Merchants negotiating shipping rates, nobles accompanied by silent guards, and families meeting with heartfelt embraces and tears.

  "Let's look for information about the festival first," I suggested, scanning the crowd. There should be some kind of announcement, directions, or something."

  We wandered through the terminal, examining bulletin boards and listening to town criers. Hours passed like that, and oddly, I didn’t find a single poster or announcement about Waybound’s Summer Festival or Nevaramis. Admittedly, I was a week early, but still. Plenty of information about local events, trade caravans seeking guards, and even some wanted posters—I checked just in case for any trouble in the future, but nothing about the floating isnd.

  "This is very... concerning," Ha-Yun remarked, frowning. "You'd think they'd want to advertise something so significant. Especially since we saw many adventurers in the airship. Maybe many people know about it, but it’s not exactly common knowledge?"

  "Or they’re not exactly sure what they’re here for," Sora said, her sharp eyes continuing to scan the crowds. "Or maybe they're keeping it quiet intentionally."

  Looking more carefully at the flow of people through the terminal, I began to notice patterns.

  As more travelers entered the city, some groups seemed to be gathering—caravans with heavily loaded pack animals, griffin riders examining their mounts' harnesses at the stables, and clusters of students in academy uniforms huddled around maps.

  "Some of the higher levelled adventurers are heading somewhere specific," I observed. "And they're trying not to be obvious about it."

  Lilian nodded. "The festival must be invitation-only. Private. Which makes sense if they're limiting who can attend. Huh. Our css has about fifty people, and I think the senior years are like that, too. So that’s about two hundred students. Would a thousand people be attending this, or what?"

  That made the event very big.

  We followed the flow to the skyport's main exit, where the vast city of Merasca spread out below us. Unlike Goryeo's elegant spires and curved roofs, Merasca was all stone and pragmatism—a trading hub built for function rather than beauty.

  "I should find an inn," Ha-Yun said as we paused at a crossroads. "I'll get settled and ask around about town. We can meet ter to share what we've learned—if you want."

  "You could just come with us," Sora suggested, adjusting her cloak to better hide her wings. "Four heads are better than three."

  “Yeah! Come with us,” Lilian supported.

  Ha-Yun scratched her cheek awkwardly as she looked at the two girls. "I... don't think your boyfriend would like an outsider like myself, hah. Such a pity."

  I cleared my throat. "This is kind of a private mission, yeah... Unless the future Empress of Goryeo is ready to kill a student of Waybound together with us pesky criminals?"

  "No, never mind." Ha-Yun smiled, stepping back. "This princess will be taking her leave.”

  “Heh.”

  “Oh, by the way,” she stopped, looking at me. “Isn't your mana control pretty good? It reminds me. I had this senior when I was a freshman, he was a 4th year, handsome man. He used this device that allowed him to shoot mana strings. He swung around the pce using it, rather than flying, since his Css didn't give him any ability like that. Maybe you can do that? You shouldn't need a device from what you told me about your mana control."

  My mind immediately tched onto the concept.

  Mana strings... I'd seen such techniques in combat in different video games but never considered applying them for mobility in this second life of mine. I could shoot ropes of energy to swing between buildings or structures, gaining momentum to unch myself through the air… like a certain friendly neighbor.

  "That... actually might work," I said slowly, excitement building. "I think I can project solidified mana from my palms, attach it to distant points, and use the tension to propel myself. I need to practice, though." I flexed my fingers, already running mana control exercises in my head. "It wouldn't be true flight, but with enough practice..."

  "Nah, it would not get you onto a floating isnd. From where you’re standing? To the clouds? Good luck. Better get ready to be carried by your girlfriend," Ha-Yun finished, looking pleased with herself as she turned around.

  "Have faith in me, princess!" I held back from rolling my eyes as I called. "But seriously, thanks. I'll try it out!"

  Ha-Yun waved from her shoulders, satisfied. "Good luck with your... preparations." Her voice was still troubled by what I'd casually mentioned earlier, but she left soon. Instead of the one guard st time, this time two royal guards fell into step behind her since she was now the crown princess.

  We watched until she disappeared into the crowd, then looked at each other. "Now," I said, "let's get registered as adventurers first, yes?"

  ****

  The Adventurer's Guild of Merasca was a sprawling, two-story structure of weathered stone and dark oak beams. Inside, the main hall buzzed with activity—a microcosm of the adventuring world with all its bravado, desperation, and ambition.

  Light from brass chandeliers mingled with blue-white radiance from enchanted sconces, casting the hall in a peculiar glow that seemed to sharpen every scar, weapon, and calcuting gaze.

  Veterans rexed at long tables with their mugs of ale, sharing tall tales, while the inexperienced gathered around the job board, gncing at bounty notices with both eagerness and apprehension. The walls were adorned with maps of nearby regions, featuring red circles to denote danger zones and blue dots to indicate resource-rich areas.

  At the center of it all stood the receptionist's counter—a long, polished sb of dark wood where the guild's gatekeepers processed new registrations, handed out job details, and collected completed mission reports.

  The doors swung open with a heavy creak, and a noticeable ripple of silence spread outward from the entrance. Three figures stood silhouetted against the afternoon light before stepping inside.

  They moved as one, their forms concealed beneath dark cloaks that brushed the floor. The tallest wore a stark golden mask that covered the entire face, with narrow slits for gold bright eyes and no visible mouth. The other two kept their hoods pulled low, each wearing a white and red mark, but only the glint of eyes was visible within the shadows. All three wore thick gloves as if afraid to leave even a fingerprint behind.

  Conversations stuttered and died. A serving girl paused mid-step, nearly spilling her tray of drinks. Even the most hardened mercenaries gnced up from their dice games, hands drifting subtly toward weapon hilts. These people were clearly suspicious.

  The golden-masked figure led the trio across the suddenly quiet room, boots making no sound on the wooden floor. They moved with purpose, straight to the receptionist's counter, where a short woman with cropped brown hair and tired eyes tried to maintain her professional composure.

  "Welcome to the Merasca Adventurer's Guild," she said, her voice steady. Unlike others, she didn’t look bothered by their appearance. "How may I assist you today?"

  "Registration," came a voice from behind the golden mask, deliberately pitched to be unidentifiable—neither clearly male nor female.

  "Of course." The receptionist reached beneath the counter and produced three bnk cards and a crystalline stone about the size of a fist. "I'll need your names for the registry… ah, and measure your Levels."

  A moment of awkward silence stretched as the three figures seemed to confer without speaking. "Cheonma," said the masked one at st.

  "Sunspot," said the figure to the right, voice soft and feminine.

  "Lunardoom," added the third, still feminine with a hint of a growl in the word.

  The receptionist blinked, staring at them for a moment, while some others burst out ughing in the background. She cleared her throat and wrote the names down without comment. She'd seen all types in her years at the guild—the mysterious, the dramatic, the paranoid. These three merely leaned harder into theatrics than most.

  "Very well. Each of you will need to pce your hand on the Level Measuring Stone. This will determine your registration cssification."

  The golden-masked one—Cheonma—stepped forward first, pressing a gloved hand to the crystal. The stone began to glow, faintly at first, then with increasing brightness. Numbers flickered across its surface, climbing rapidly: 20... 35... 48... 57...

  The light intensified, causing the receptionist to squint against the gre. Nearby conversations had completely ceased as all eyes fixed on the reading.

  The numbers slowed: 64… 65... 67...

  Finally: Level 68.

  The crystal pulsed once more before dimming. A collective intake of breath swept through the hall.

  "Level 69," the receptionist announced, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. "That's... exceptional." It wasn’t as if such high-level people didn’t exist in the guild, but it was rare to find them registering for the first time.

  A low whistle came from somewhere in the crowd. A grizzled man at the nearest table muttered something to his companion, who nodded with narrowed eyes.

  The other two—Sunspot and Lunardoom—took their turns with simir results: Level 66 and Level 89, respectively. If people weren’t shocked by the first show, they were by the st. If they were here for theatrics, why not begin with the highest levelled person? The receptionists found them very amateurish at this. She should have known when she realized one of them was using an eastern name while the others used western ones.

  "The dy here will be cssified as S-ranked, while you two will be Grandmaster Css, given she’s at 6th Ascension. You two will be cssed as Diamond. Some of our people like to call the Grandmaster css A-rank, while Diamond is B-rank." The receptionist said, quickly stamping their registration cards. "Your credentials are now recognized by all guild branches throughout the continent."

  ‘Cheonma’ took the cards with a silent nod.

  "Might I ask what brings such... capable individuals to our guild?" the receptionist ventured, curiosity overcoming protocol.

  Cheonma tilted their head slightly, the mask revealing nothing. "We hear Nevaramis will appear soon. The Divine Sect intends to be there."

  With that, the trio turned and walked back toward the exit, leaving a wake of whispers and specution behind them. "Nevaramis hunters," an old adventurer in the corner spat. "City's not even appeared yet, and they're already crawling out of every hole."

  "But did you see those levels?" his companion murmured. "Whoever's under that mask has fought things most of us only have nightmares about."

  “Most? Talk about yourself,” one of them spat on the floor.

  The doors swung shut behind the three cloaked figures, and gradually, the normal buzz of conversation returned to the guild hall—though now with a new undercurrent of unease and specution about the ghost city.

  TheVeiledMan