The chase continued through Blackwater's layered industrial maze without slowing.
Steel beams flashed beneath their feet.
Steam burst violently from overhead vents, scattering heat and smoke through the narrow structures while dim industrial lights flickered endlessly across the drifting haze.
The city itself gradually began to change around them.
Less crowded now.
Less noise.
Fewer civilians.
The deeper entertainment districts and packed market streets slowly disappeared behind them, swallowed by distance and darkness.
Even the transit rails overhead became wider.
Heavier.
More reinforced.
The blue-haired woman followed silently across a narrow maintenance bridge while cold wind whipped through her hair and cloak.
Ahead—
Draven and Aldric never once looked back.
Not at her.
Not at the other shadows trailing behind them.
As if none of the followers were important enough to acknowledge.
And somehow—
that felt worse.
The three unknown pursuers continued moving as well.
Professional.
Measured.
Never getting too close.
Never falling too far behind.
One crossed silently along an overhead cargo rail.
Another moved through the lower maintenance structures beneath drifting steam and hanging chains.
The last remained nearly impossible to track properly—
appearing only occasionally between shadows and industrial support pillars before vanishing again like a ghost.
The woman's grip tightened slightly around the saber at her waist.
*Who exactly are these people…?*
Then—
her eyes shifted forward again.
And realization struck instantly.
The structures ahead were changing.
The industrial clutter of Blackwater was disappearing.
Open airspace expanded between the towering steel frameworks.
Massive defensive cannons became visible atop reinforced platforms overhead.
Searchlights swept slowly across the smoky night sky.
And far ahead—
through layers of industrial haze—
she finally saw them.
Warships.
Large ones.
Imperial military vessels suspended above enormous docking structures built into the outer eastern district skyline.
The military sky dock.
Her expression changed immediately.
"…No way."
A cold feeling crawled slowly down her spine.
Ahead—
Aldric finally broke the silence while jumping across another steel beam.
"Oh."
His grin widened beneath the drifting steam and sweeping military searchlights.
"…Alright."
He rolled one shoulder loosely while standing atop a massive steel support beam overlooking the outer military district.
"Now *this* is getting interesting."
Ahead—
the outer eastern district of Blackwater stretched open beneath the smoky night sky.
The crowded industrial maze had almost completely vanished.
In its place stood enormous reinforced military structures layered across colossal aerial platforms connected by armored transit bridges and cannon-lined support towers.
Searchlights swept endlessly through the haze.
Heavy defensive arrays hummed through the air with low mechanical vibrations.
Far above—
imperial warships floated silently like steel predators watching the city below.
The military sky dock.
Even from this distance—
the atmosphere felt completely different.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
Official.
A place where Blackwater's usual chaos stopped mattering.
Behind them—
the blue-haired woman abruptly stopped atop a narrow steel support beam overlooking the outer district airspace.
Her boots scraped lightly against the metal.
Her expression tightened.
"…Damn it."
As a guild adventurer—
she couldn't simply trespass into active imperial military territory without authorization.
That wasn't some ordinary restricted zone.
Getting caught crossing into the eastern military platforms could easily lead to imprisonment—
or worse, if the Empire decided to make an example out of someone.
Ahead—
Draven and Aldric continued forward without slowing.
Neither of them hesitated for even a second.
As if military territory meant absolutely nothing to them.
The woman's eyes narrowed sharply.
*What the hell are they planning…?*
Then—
movement.
The other followers stopped as well.
One by one—
the hidden figures emerged slightly from the surrounding industrial shadows while still maintaining careful distance from one another.
Not allies.
Just separate hunters observing the same prey.
The blue-haired woman immediately shifted her stance.
Her hand moved closer to the saber at her waist.
Ready.
The figure standing highest among the support structures finally stepped forward far enough for lantern light to brush across a dark cloak.
Slim frame.
Masked face.
A woman.
Her voice echoed calmly through the drifting steam.
"Syrian."
The blue-haired woman's eyes sharpened instantly.
The masked woman continued evenly.
"Fourth-Star Rune Warrior."
"B-rank adventurer of the Wolf Ear Guild."
A brief pause followed.
"What exactly is your reason for following our targets?"
Silence settled across the elevated steel structures.
Far below—
Blackwater's lower districts still roared with distant machinery, engines, and restless life.
But up here—
everything suddenly felt colder.
Sharper.
More dangerous.
The masked woman tilted her head slightly.
"Is it because of the incident inside your guild earlier?"
Another pause.
"Or is there another reason?"
Syrian stared carefully at the three hidden followers, her eyes narrowing immediately.
"…I should've known."
Wind swept through the elevated military structures while drifting steam rolled between the support beams around them.
Her hand remained near her saber now.
Tense.
Prepared.
"Crossfall Guild."
The masked woman gave a faint amused hum beneath her cloak.
"Well…"
A brief pause.
"I suppose it would've been surprising if Blackwater's favorite adventurers *hadn't* heard of us."
Syrian's expression darkened slightly.
Crossfall Guild.
An underground organization operating beneath the city itself.
Not officially recognized.
Not remotely legal.
A place where criminals, smugglers, bounty hunters, assassins, traffickers, and mercenaries gathered beneath Blackwater's foundations to exchange contracts and blood for money.
If someone wanted poison—
Crossfall could provide it.
Illegal artifacts?
Crossfall.
Disappearances?
Crossfall.
Murder?
That depended entirely on the payment being offered.
Blackwater tolerated their existence mostly because nobody wanted the chaos that would come from trying to erase them.
And because far too many important people secretly benefited from their services.
Syrian carefully observed the three hidden figures now.
"…So what's your deal with those two?"
Her eyes briefly shifted toward the distant figures of Draven and Aldric continuing deeper toward the imperial district without slowing.
"…You planning to kill them?"
The masked woman tilted her head slightly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
A brief pause.
"Do we look like killers to you?"
Silence.
One of the other hidden figures snorted quietly from a lower support structure.
Syrian stared at them flatly.
"…Yes."
Honestly—
that was a fair answer.
The masked woman laughed softly beneath the mask.
"Alright."
"Fair enough."
Steam burst violently from a nearby industrial vent while military searchlights swept slowly across the smoky skyline overhead.
Then the masked woman's tone shifted slightly.
Calmer now.
More focused.
"They simply caught our attention."
Syrian didn't relax.
"That's it?"