Charles turned toward another pedestal, half-hidden in a shadowy corner of the vault. The area was so dark that even Nimbus had been reluctant to enter. On a crescent dais of obsidian-veined stone, three legendary relics hovered, perfectly still in the air.
First was the Cloak of Duskstep, woven from shadow-spun silk and voidweaver thread. It looked like melted moonlight, shifting between solid and intangible. With every movement, it made a soft sound, as if sharing secrets with the darkness.
Next was the Mask of Null Reflection, carved from the bone of a mirror-walker beast and framed in silver made during a lunar eclipse. It shimmered only when you looked away, and wearing it seemed to erase your presence.
Finally, there were the Boots of Whisperstride, made from midnight leather and stitched with inked runes and lightstep sigils. The soles bore the mark of a lost assassin sect, whose motto lingered with every step: "Tread as if the gods are listening."
Charles approached the relics and reverently donned them.
The cloak fell over his shoulders. The mask fit snugly on his face and made a soft hissing sound. The boots held onto his feet and moved with him as if they were alive.
"SIGMA," Charles said softly, "check the performance."
[Duskstep: on. Null Reflection: full aura suppression. Whisperstride: confirmed faster movement speed. Camouflage is done. Color of hair: midnight. Shadow signature: can't be found.]
Then he was gone.
No shimmer. No sound. Just absence.
Even the cauldron paused mid-brew.
"Hmm," muttered the spirit, squinting into the air. "Now that's a cloak."
He flickered out of view like a breath in fog.
He reappeared behind Karel, flicking him on the ear. "Focus, archer boy."
"Ow—what the—?"
Gone.
Behind Wendy, catching a dagger she threw for a construct. "Watch your angles."
She narrowed her eyes. "I will throw you next."
At Borris's shoulder: "Still holding the line?"
"I swear by the gods, Charles, I will dropkick you into the next rank."
Then Charles vaulted atop a boulder, removed the mask, and grinned.
"Cloak check: passed. Now, who wants a lightning pill?"
Andy raised his axe. "If I explode, I want credit."
Wendy muttered, "You get the explosion. I get the insurance."
Kael sighed, almost smiling. "Fighting constructs, or each other first?"
Charles tossed them each a glowing pill—static zipping along the outer shell.
"Flavor testing required. Wendy, don't poison-check it. I want real feedback."
Rob bit his pill. "Tastes like fury and lemon zest. I like it."
They returned to the battlefield. The constructs weren't waiting.
A triple-core brute charged Donald, who sidestepped, spun, and snapped three glowing chains into a net, trapping it.
Wendy appeared above the wind construct, daggers crossing down. "Still slow."
Andy burst through the smoke, lightning swirling on his axe as he split a fire brute. "Works!" he shouted.
Kael slammed his claymore down hard. "Terra Aegis: Anchor Drive!"
The ground shook. Three constructs were hurled into the air by an invisible force.
Karel jumped and shot. "Storm of Burning Arrows." Six flaming arrows exploded on impact.
Rob summoned a ghost hawk that screeched, knocking a wind construct off balance.
And what about Charles?
Charles vanished, reappearing behind a building.
"Echo Sever: Shadow Art."
Charles struck. His blade hummed, and the construct flashed apart.
Wendy muttered, "Showoff."
"Perfect," Charles said, brushing the dust off his cloak.
The Epoch Sphere pulsed softly above as the last structure fell apart. The ground sparkled, and the illusion started over. Behind them, the way back to the vault opened.
SIGMA said, "The simulation is over." "Combat efficiency: improved." 112% increase in ego.
The team got back together, some with bruises and all shining with qi and sweat. Charles floated down next to the cauldron, which chirped happily.
"Complete brew." It asked, "Feedback?"
Andy nodded. "Tingling." In a good way."
Karel gave a thumbs-up. "I feel smarter." It could be a placebo.
Donald grimaced. "Like sucking on a shocked lemon—but no complaints."
Charles laughed and gave Kael and Rob another set of test tubes. "Use them sparingly. They only make elemental affinity stronger for three minutes, but at the right time? That's a whole fight."
Kael put his sword away. "I'll keep it for when the mountain gets angry."
Wendy holstered her dagger. "Or when nobles need a sharp retort."
Charles turned back to the bright Epoch Sphere and spoke in a serious tone again.
He swept his hand. "This is our crucible. We train. We fight. We sync. We get ready for worse than lords or magibeasts."
Rob raised an eyebrow. "Bad?"
Charles's eyes flashed—storm-dark. "Worse than bad. We won't get caught off guard."
The light in the sphere faded and went out. One by one, the team stepped through the portal and back into the vault, where everything was shining and chaotic.
But now they moved together like wolves. Not scavengers anymore.
They were different. They have Willpower weapons.
Wielders of legend are back.
As they walked under columns of flame, crystal, and lost riches, Charles's voice echoed like a soft promise:
"Next simulation, we check out squad formations. What happens after that? Dragonhunt scenario."
Andy groaned. "Do we at least get to eat?"
Wendy smiled. "I thought you were lunch."
Donald deadpanned, "Spotted a scroll—cooks you with your own tears. Steer clear."
Kael just smiled. "One day at a time, boss. One day closer to domination."
Charles sheathed his sword with a click.
"No," he replied.
"One day closer to destiny."
Blueprints of Dominion - The Highlands Reforged
Night had fallen over the Highlands of Throm Vale, but it was not darkness that blanketed the land. The team, fresh from their vault simulation, now beheld a new frontier, stepping from one reality into the wild expanse beyond.
The sky shimmered as starlight reflected off countless veins of raw mana crystal in the jagged mountains. These were more than simple deposits; they were living channels of power, pulsing and glowing for anyone attuned to their song. The air felt charged, like the moment before a storm, and the mountains glowed from within, as if the gods had hidden their own hearts deep beneath the stone.
High above it all rode Charles, now Lord Charlemagne Ziglar, astride Nimbus, the newly bonded Azure Tempest Dragon. The wind whipped through his cloak, and his disguised blackened hair, changed by his stealth gear's glamour enchantment, sparked with streaks of electricity. Behind him, his elite team clung on, awestruck.
Kael and Karel sat near the flanks, stoic and alert, as if challenging the clouds themselves to attack. Wendy, light as air, had already slipped into a crouch on the dragon's neck, eyes sweeping below for mana signatures and landmarks.
Rob stood near the tail, arms stretched as if conducting the sky, every so often calling, "BEHOLD! THE WIND FLIRTS WITH ME!"
Borris grunted, holding Andy down with one hand, clutching a stabilizing rune with the other. "If he sings again, I'm pushing him off," he said evenly.
"No, you won't," Andy replied. "You need me to make dumb jokes."
"I need you to not fall to your death while flailing like a sack of meat and noise," Borris replied flatly.
"Balance," Charles called over his shoulder, lips tugging upward into a grin. "Remember, team—falling from a dragon isn't heroic unless you survive it and say something cool."
Wendy flicked a dagger between her fingers. "Define 'cool'."
"You'll know it when you hear it," Charles said, eyes scanning the terrain below.
Nimbus roared once, a deep thunderclap that echoed through the mountain ranges and sent flocks of crimson-winged night hawks screeching into the stars. It wasn't a roar of challenge.
It was a declaration.
Below them, sprawling like an undiscovered world, were the raw, untamed riches of Throm Vale. Sparkling blue rivers of mana. Jagged crystal forests that thrummed like harps. Mutated beasts prowling through warped ecosystems. The land was not just wild—it was fertile. Bursting with cultivation potential and ancient, forgotten power.
And it belonged to no one. No title. No deed. No noble banner had ever flown here, only death notices and expedition logs full of missing persons and frightened scribbles about howling beasts.
Perfect.
As Nimbus turned left, Charles stood on the dragon's spine, his boots held in place by a stealth artifact's locking glyph. He swept his hand, and a golden scroll unrolled in the air, covered in shimmering sigils.
"SIGMA," Charles commanded. "Activate topographic overlay. Give me detailed data on the magical vein activity, elemental concentration density, beast migration lines, and potential construction sectors."
[Overlay initiated,] SIGMA responded, [projecting a glowing map that updated in real-time with every beat of Nimbus's wings.]
Behind him, his team gawked at the projections. Wind trails. Elemental flows. Flares of qi concentrations in vibrant colors.
"Oh my gods," Karel whispered, pointing to a cluster of glowing blue ridges. "That mountain is sweating mana."
Charles nodded. "And that's our future magic tower's basement."
They swept low over a canyon where lightning elementals sparked between crystalline pillars. Wendy tossed down a mana tag—instantly, SIGMA locked coordinates.
"You're tagging that for battle drills, aren't you?" she asked dryly.
Charles grinned. "And maybe a sparring pit with electric waterfalls."
Then there was the valley of green, a fertile hollow between two cliffs that had never been touched by war or foot traffic. It had a faint sparkle from natural qi and bioluminescent vines, making it shine.
Rob leaned forward in awe. "That's a paradise for herbalists."
Charles said, "It is now." "We'll name it the Verdant Hollow. Set it aside for growing magical herbs. Next week, that whole vale will have a humidity-modulation array put in."
Andy blinked. "You're going to grow potions. In a jungle of magic. On top of a mountain full of dragons."
Charles didn't even look. "No. I want to own that jungle. And maybe sell tea on the side."
Kael really did smile. "He's serious."
Borris made a noise. "Of course he is."
As Nimbus kept circling and going down, the whole team started to laugh. Below, ancient magic began to wake up after being forgotten for a long time.
And Charles had every intention of waking it up.
Foundations Beneath the Flame
They had reached the top of the central mountain by midnight. The Eternal Emberdrake, Ignis Terrae, fossilized here a long time ago, and this is where he finally found peace.
Charles put his hand on the rock and whispered:
"Let's make a temple that reaches the sky."
His voice had more than just ambition in it. It had a purpose, full of command, power, and something deeper: legacy.
SIGMA quickly began sending glowing lines from the ground, creating a three-dimensional floor plan. Circles of array magic lit up the surface, including concentric defense nodes, teleportation beacons, and spiritual resonance amplifiers.
Borris knelt down and tapped the ground. "The rock here is dense, but... it sings. We can forge directly into the stone."
"Good," Charles said. "Forge the bones of the temple from this peak. And use Emberdrake bone fragments in the altar."
Andy tilted his head. "Isn't that sacrilegious?"
"We're honoring him," Charles replied. "The Dragon Temple isn't for worship. It's a covenant."
Wendy set up stealth arrays along the outer cliffs, etching them with wind-infused qi. "The concealment will work... for now. But we'll need stronger arrays if we want to keep this hidden from high-level scryers."
"We'll get them," Charles said. "And we'll upgrade this place layer by layer. Eventually, it won't just be protected—it'll be impossible to find without my permission."
Kael and Karel set up the main training grounds in the northeast quadrant of the blueprint, marked by circular rings of obsidian that would become sparring arenas, alchemy platforms, and cultivation meditation gardens. Already, the air here felt denser, richer in qi.
Charles stood in the center, the Cauldron of Xal'vinar hovering beside him, its spirit grumbling about spacing and heat flow efficiency.
"You know, if you idiots design this temple without proper ventilation, don't come whining to me when your herbs melt."
Charles ignored him and dropped a jade token into the cauldron. A pillar of steam erupted.
"Elixirs for soil enrichment, qi stabilization, and beast taming," he said. "Start brewing."
"Bossy today," the cauldron muttered, but it obeyed.
Around them, magical lanterns floated in the air, casting light over the foundation lines of an empire yet unborn.
Charles exhaled.
"We're not just building a temple," he said quietly, "we're building proof. Proof that this land isn't cursed—it's sacred. And we are its chosen."
Everyone looked to him. And no one doubted him.