"Tanist Brakhtar, that feeling just now... it felt like—"

On the Gorathim side, having already landed on one of the empty islets, all the towering ogres halted and turned, searching for the source of the presence that had washed over them.

"Yes." Brakhtar narrowed his small eyes; the skull ornaments adorning his minimal tribal attire trembled slightly. "It felt like a Rank 4 Spark."

When their leader, the tribe’s chief-designate, confirmed their doubts, all the Gorathim drew a cold breath.

They all knew many Sparks would be found here, but according to the counsel of their leaders and elders, the chance of a Rank 4 Spark still being alive was low.

The Legacy Domain, being the Sanctuary of a dead Adept that had been breaking apart over long years, was a dried sea of energy. For Rank 4 Sparks, whose needs for sustenance and energy were high, it was a poor habitat. They had assumed all Rank 4s were long dead and that the highest rank still living would be Rank 3.

Yet, judging by the pressure they had just felt, they had little doubt it came from a Rank 4 Spark; it was too powerful for anything a Rank 3 could produce.

Brakhtar Gorat paused as if weighing the matter, then turned and continued on, his body gliding just above the islet’s dry soil without touching it. "If it is really a Rank 4 Spark, we avoid it no matter what. Focus on the task ahead for now. We will consider the rest on our return."

Knowing there was no way they could defeat a Rank 4 Spark, it was the only solution to the problem at hand. Besides, the direction of the presence lay toward the way they would eventually return, where the exit hole was located, so they could ignore it until the time came to go back.

—

"Maruun, if it is really a Rank 4 Spark, doesn’t that mean we will be stuck here? There is no way we can pass through without taking losses, and there is no chance we can jump into the hole without a fight, right?" Loudbark Hound urged his winged shiba mount forward until he drew alongside Maruun, speaking in a rush.

"I said relax. It is a concern for when we are done here and decide to return. If we are lucky, it will already be gone when we come back." Maruun answered in a calm tone without looking back, though his own expression appeared distinctly tense.

"Lucky?" Loudbark murmured, the word thin with doubt. His gaze swept the others; tension was etched into every face. Only the Obsidren remained unreadable, stone upon stone.

—

Meanwhile, inside the Legacy Domain, everyone mistook Adyr’s Presence for that of a Rank 4 Spark and trembled in alarm; outside the dimension, around the great tent, the leaders and elders of the races whose people were still within had not departed. They waited with patient vigilance, eyes fixed on the canvas mouth of the massive tent and the wavering sunlight that pooled there.

Collossith’s enormous body had settled to rest on its 6 legs, its head pressed to the soil as if dozing, a slow breath moving through the vast frame. Atop its skull, 4 figures stood together, calm and composed, weighing their next move with the measured quiet of people who understood what a wrong step could cost.

"Lady Liora, you should return to the kingdom with Malrik. Don’t worry; Mirela and I can stay here and wait for Adyr to return," Lucen said, a soft sigh slipping through his composure.

Ever since Adyr had gone into the tent, they had been trying to persuade Liora to head back. With no knowing when he would return, leaving the kingdom without a single Practitioner felt dangerously reckless, like holding open a gate in storm season.

"I know, but are you sure you will feel safe here alone?" Liora asked, uncertainty touching her features as she glanced around the great tent at the gathered leaders and elders.

Some leaders of the low and mid races had already gone back to their own territories for the same reason, leaving deputies behind with strict orders.

The great races, however, the Lunari and the Gorathim, still remained, each possessing not only 1 Rank 4 Practitioner but multiple among their number.

Silverlight Zephan stood rigid on the back of his massive Silver Whale, motionless, eyes fixed on the tent’s entrance as if no force of nature could shift him. The other 2 Rank 4 elders who had been present earlier were nowhere to be seen; they had long since returned to their kingdoms, leaving Zephan to hold the vigil alone.

On the Gorathim side, Throgar Gorat had chosen to depart with the Giant Eye, but he had left behind 2 elders, both Rank 4. They sat cross-legged on the hard ground, eyes closed, their stillness unbroken as they waited for their youths to return from the Legacy Domain.

"Sister, you worry too much. Why wouldn’t we feel safe? Remember, the Wanderer Merchant is still inside the tent. While he is here, no one would dare to start a conflict," Mirela answered in a steady, reasonable tone. She paused, then added, "Also, that Sevrak left with his face twisted in anger. What if he decides to attack our kingdom while no one is protecting it?"

Even the thought made her tremble; anger pinched her expression before she mastered it again.

Hearing this, Liora seemed at last persuaded. She knew Sevrak’s character well; an attack in her absence was not a thin possibility but a strong likelihood. "Okay, okay. I will come back tomorrow morning to check on you. Just stay out of conflict, and if anything happens, run. Do not get into an argument with anyone, not even a war of words." She gathered herself to unsummon Collossith, still slow as a land mount, intending to return by her flying cloud.

Before she could do so, something made her stop.

"Liora Virell of the Velari. Do you have some time before departing?"

An aged, powerful voice rolled over them, setting body and soul trembling. A figure with black fur and a white robe stood beside them as if the air itself had let him through; none of them had noticed when he arrived.

"Lord Wanderer Merchant." Liora and the other 3 recognized him at once and dropped to their knees, shock and a flicker of fluster showing in their movements.

"Please, rise. No need for formalities. The others do not know I came here personally to chat, and you will look strange to them," the Merchant said with an easy, sincere laugh, waiting for all 4 to stand before folding his hands behind his back.

Perplexed, Liora and the others lifted their heads. Representatives from the other races were watching with puzzled faces. Even Silverlight Zephan, who a moment ago had stared at the tent with a focus nothing seemed able to break, was now looking their way. Only then did it strike them what the looks meant.

They could not see the Wanderer Merchant.

A Spark skill veiled him, hiding both body and presence even from the eyes of a Titled Practitioner, and the realization sent a second, quieter ripple through the group.

"My lord, to what do we owe this visit?" Liora gathered her composure, straightened her back, and raised her chin to meet the black goatman’s gaze without flinching.

"Nothing to worry about," the Wanderer Merchant answered, stroking his long black goatee. "Curiosity got the better of this old man, and I wished to have a small chat with you about someone." His tone stayed mild, almost casual, until his next words drew every Velari nerve taut. "Do you mind telling me who that man really is? Adyr, am I right about the name?"