Ren had been tailing that boat for nearly three hours. The fog had thickened into a dense gray curtain, swallowing every trace of light and leaving the shimmering water eerily still.
As the night deepened, the cold seeped in like tiny needles, pricking through the gaps in his armor, making him shiver whenever a heavy droplet slid down the black steel and traced the faint engravings across his chestplate.
He adjusted the rhythm of his strokes, his breath mingling with the milky mist and dissolving into the hushed emptiness.
Twice, the boat ahead nearly vanished into the choking fog, leaving Ren with the tense feeling of groping through a maze with no exit.
Fortunately, their route remained steady, always southeast, the same direction as the Bear Forest he had once crossed during a previous quest.
That was the only landmark keeping Ren oriented amid the suffocating sea of mist.
He pressed on, clinging to the faint silhouette of the vessel, tracking its course like a patient hunter.
Losing it meant losing everything, three hours of painstaking pursuit turned to dust, and Ren wasn't about to let that happen.
With the advantage of a smaller craft, Ren slipped through reed thickets and around scattered mounds of earth, using them for cover before drifting back into the open.
The water rippled gently under the soft sweep of his paddle, a sound like a muffled breath in the oppressive silence.
His gondola wasn't slow, but complacency wasn't an option: no sail, only muscle. Every mistake would cost distance, and maybe the entire chase.
Speed wasn't what worried Ren now. It was the gondola's durability. His display read 191/200, a troubling number when the journey was far from over.
He grimaced, recalling the careless bumps against hidden stakes beneath the water, or the glancing scrape of a rock spur veiled in fog.
Those seemingly harmless knocks had been gnawing away at the boat's endurance, and if it kept up…
Ren's grip tightened on the paddle, his eyes firm. "Just a little more…"
Ahead, the silhouette of the larger boat flickered through the mist, like a colossal beast lurking in the swamp.
No sound came from it, only the faint pulse of waves slapping against its hull, in an unnerving, steady rhythm.
Ren didn't know what they were carrying, but instinct screamed… this was no ordinary cargo.
"Where…?" Ren muttered under his breath, fingers clenching around the paddle. A shiver shot down his spine as he pushed the gondola out from the reed-choked bank.
It was then he realized, the boat was gone. No shadow. No lantern glow piercing the suffocating fog.
A hollow chill spread through his mind. Panic flared. He drove the paddle hard, water splashing wildly, rings of ripples tearing through the silver haze.
The gondola surged forward, the darkness ahead swallowing everything, leaving only the sound of his strokes echoing through a ghastly silence.
Then suddenly, a faint strip of land emerged from the fog. Ren's heart lurched. He yanked the paddle, hard...crash!
The gondola barely missed slamming into a row of jagged rocks jutting from the water like knives.
"Damn it…" he hissed, breath steaming in ragged bursts before his face.
His eyes swept the banks, nothing but black cliffs and skeletal trees half-lost in the mist. Strange… it should have been here.
Ren didn't quit. He circled the area again and again, his strokes quickening with the pounding of his pulse.
When hope thinned to a thread, Ren clenched his jaw and triggered [Tracing].
A pale aura shimmered across his vision, faint sigils flickering in and out of existence in the fog.
Nothing. Not a single trace. As if the boat had never been there.
With a long exhale, Ren guided the gondola toward the bank, searching for cover among the jagged rocks to anchor the craft.
The moment his boots hit solid ground, he realized, this place didn't match any part of the map he'd seen.
The terrain was brutal, strewn with stone spires stabbing skyward through the darkness like spears.
In the center, a massive river churned, black as a blade, flowing into a vast lake that sprawled across nearly the entire fourth floor.
The land here was barren and dead, hushed but for the river's whispering murmur, like secrets no one should hear.
Ren froze. His heart jolted, then slowed to a heavy beat as his eyes narrowed. A cold thread slid like a serpent down his spine.
The feeling… something was out there, watching him from within the blinding white shroud of mist.
He drew a deep breath and activated [Stealth]. His form melted into the stony gray, pressing himself against the jagged outcroppings at the water's edge.
Moments later, the faint crunch of footsteps rippled through the stillness, soft yet sharp, like blades slicing the quiet.
Figures emerged from the fog, their movements fluid and precise. They walked upriver, each burdened with something, sacks, wooden crates, long shapes wrapped tight in cloth.
Ren held his breath, eyes wide. Something was wrong. There were too many of them.
He remembered clearly, the ones who boarded earlier were only half this number. So where had the rest come from?
Silent as a shadow, Ren crept after them, boots sinking into cold mud, hugging their trail.
The mist bent the moonlight, shattering it across the water like splintered glass. Every heartbeat felt strangled.
They walked on, until the river's voice changed. A thunderous roar, wild and savage, like the bellow of some titanic beast.
The procession halted before a colossal waterfall, a torrent crashing from a sheer cliff, exploding into a spray of silver shards that glittered like shattered mirrors.
The deafening rush drowned every other sound. And then, Ren's breath stopped cold. The figures… vanished.
They didn't climb the rocks. They didn't turn back. They slipped behind the torrent, as if a hidden passage yawned beyond that wall of water, a secret world Ren had never heard of.
Once more, Ren triggered [Tracing]. Beneath the slick stone, faint footprints gleamed and faded, like the dying breath of something that no longer existed.
They ended… right beside the waterfall.
Ren tightened his grip on the sword hilt. His eyes narrowed slightly as a thought sliced through the fog of doubt like a blade: "The entrance… is it behind this wall of water?"
He stepped closer, each footfall swallowed by the roar of the waterfall. The spray lashed against his skin like a storm of a thousand tiny blades.
Icy mist coiled around his body, clinging to his cloak like unseen hands.
Through the thunderous crash of water, Ren heard something else, a rhythm. A steady beat. Not his heartbeat, but the echo of footsteps resonating from within.
There was a path. There had to be.
Without hesitation, Ren drew a deep breath and hurled himself through the blinding curtain of white. In that instant, the world became an endless abyss of cold.
The chill gnawed at his skin like shards of glass until his boots struck the slick stone beneath.
Though there was no snow here, and the fourth floor was never meant to resemble winter terrain, it was still late December.
Ren opened his eyes. Flickering torchlight clung to the moss-covered walls, stretching into the darkness like crawling blades.
The air was thick with the tang of rust… and something harsher, pungent and suffocating, the stench of dried blood.
Droplets dripped from the jagged ceiling, mingling with distant echoes, low voices, guttural and harsh, interspersed with the metallic clang of steel, heavy and relentless like a blacksmith's hammer.
Ren slipped deeper in. The path opened into a vast hall. The ceiling loomed high, scarred with ancient symbols, cracked and rotting...like a temple once buried, now desecrated and turned into a lair.
At the center stood dozens of dark-cloaked figures. But a single glance froze Ren in place, they were not human.
Elongated, pointed ears. Skin ashen gray. Eyes gleaming with a dim, violet glow, like cold fire in the night.
Fallen Elf. The name surged into Ren's mind, sending a numb shiver crawling down his spine.
He pressed against the wall, making his breath as silent as death. His stealth skill… only 80%.
Enough to fool common monsters or low-ranked sentries, but Elves? One slip, one ounce of carelessness, and death would strike swifter than thought.
Ren scanned the chamber. In the distance, sailors and a handful of shipwrights toiled, hammering planks onto the frames of two massive vessels.
Beneath them sprawled a wide, shadowy waterway, stretching into darkness, an underground river veiled in secrecy.
But that wasn't all. Other Elves were there. At first, Ren mistook them for more Fallen.
But their garb was different: bright steel armor, cloaks trimmed in pale silver that shimmered under torchlight...Forest Elf warriors.
They clustered around a colossal stone table. On its surface lay something like a map, etched with strange markings and symbols, and at its center, a large circle encircled by glyphs Ren had never seen before.
The air hung heavy, as if the place itself was choking on a secret powerful enough to alter the war.
Ren locked every muscle, eyes devouring the chaos before him. Every fragment burned into his mind like jagged shards: warships rising from their frames, supply crates stacked high, torchlight dancing off steel too cold for peace.
This wasn't a voyage. This was war.
The thought cracked like lightning through his skull, chilling his blood. Two colossal ships, their frames carved with ancient runes, no mere transports. Warships.
He edged back, heart pounding, trying to glimpse more. That stone table, where Fallen and Forest Elves conspired was soaked in crimson stains. A map sprawled across it, crimson rings marking one lone region.
Ren's breath hitched. 'A fortress… in the waters… That's it. Dark Elves. They're planning to strike a Dark Elf stronghold.'
His blood boiled. If this war ignited, the entire front would drown in carnage.
"I have to warn Kizmel… or Aisen… right now… Forest Elves are working with Fallen Elves to attack them." Ren murmured under his breath, fingers crushing the sword hilt as he slipped back toward the veil of water.
But then...
"Stop! Who are you?"
The voice cracked like an arrow, harsh and cold. A Fallen Elf from the perimeter had spotted him.
Ren stiffened, feet locked in place. He hadn't expected sentries lurking this far out.
The waterfall roared behind him. Steel hissed free ahead. There was no easy escape.
"Damn it…"