Part 1: The Anchor
Before the expedition began, Luna knelt at the center of the Sapphire Crag's stone dock. She held a massive slab of Obsidian, carving a complex spatial array into it with a diamond-tipped chisel. The runes glowed with a faint, violet hum.
[Constructing: Teleportation Waypoint (Master Node)]
"This is the Receiver," Luna explained, standing up and dusting off her hands. "Once we reach the target island, I will set up the Transmitter. It will create a tunnel through the void, allowing us to send non-living matter—crates, ore, wood—instantly back here."
Elian nodded, then turned to the spectral avatar of Orion.
"Orion, disengage the bio-link."
The crew looked confused. "Cap?" Jax asked. "We aren't taking the Turtle?"
"No," Elian explained, pointing to the rushing river of the sky. "The Aether-Stream is brutal upstream. The Turtle is powerful, but his shell creates too much drag. We need speed, not muscle."
He patted the railing of the ship.
" The Leviathan is slender. She cuts through the current. We leave the Turtle here to guard the base and act as a living battery for the Sanctuary Field."
Orion bowed. "Understood, Captain. My main body shall slumber and guard the stone. I will guide the ship with my spirit alone."
With a deep, mechanical groan, the Obsidian Leviathan detached from the massive shell of the Dragon Turtle. The ship floated free, lighter and more agile, ready to conquer the current.
Part 2: Fighting the Stream
The difference was instant.
Without the bulk of the giant beast, the Leviathan sliced through the Aether-Stream like a knife. The sails caught the magical wind, and they shot upstream.
But even with the streamlined hull, the journey was a grind.
As they passed smaller, insignificant islands, Elian kept the pace brutal.
"Caelum, scan!"
"Rare Sky-Herbs, Island 7. Mana signature weak," Caelum called out from the bow.
"Quick stop!" Elian ordered. "Orion, hold us steady!"
It was a hit-and-run operation.
The ship would drift alongside a floating rock. Jax and Isara would leap across the gap, harvest the glowing blue herbs or rare minerals in minutes, and leap back before the current pushed the ship too far back.
Scan. Dock. Loot. Leave.
After the fifth stop, Elian wiped spray from his face. They were making good time, but the constant resistance of the river was draining the ship's fuel.
He looked at the distant silhouette of the Sky-Kin island, far to the east.
"We are still too slow," Elian muttered. "The river fights us every step of the way. Fighting the current burns too much time."
He watched a flock of birds flying effortlessly overhead, ignoring the water entirely.
"The mounts," Elian realized. "Those Wind-Drakes... they don't swim in the stream; they fly over it. That's why the Sky-Kin rule this place."
Capturing those mounts wasn't just a side quest anymore; it was a logistical necessity for the guild's future.
Part 3: The Land of White
After four hours of hard sailing, the air temperature plummeted.
The tropical humidity of the Sapphire Crag vanished, replaced by a biting, dry cold. Frost began to form on the Leviathan's rigging. The Aether-Stream itself seemed to move slower here, thick with slush.
"Land ho!" Roger called out, his teeth chattering. "And... bring a coat."
Rising from the sea of clouds was a massive island. Unlike the others, this one was blindingly white.
Snow-capped peaks pierced the sky. Frozen waterfalls hung suspended in the air like crystal chandeliers. A blizzard raged silently around its highest mountain.
[System Notification]
[Discovered Unowned Land: The Glacial Spire]
[Climate: Sub-Zero]
[Resources: High]
"Drop anchor!" Elian commanded.
The ship crunched softly against an icy shelf.
The crew shivered violently as the cold hit them. They were wearing tropical gear.
Lyra, hugging her lute to her chest, stepped forward. Her breath came out in white puffs. She strummed a warm, vibrant chord that sounded like a crackling fire.
[Song: Ember's Embrace]
A faint orange aura surrounded the crew, warding off the biting chill.
"Thanks, bard," Jax muttered, rubbing his arms. "I was about to turn into a popsicle."
Part 4: The Glittering Tunnel
They trekked inland, the snow crunching loudly under their boots.
Caelum led the way, his senses tuned to the mana density.
"The energy... it is coming from beneath the mountain," Caelum pointed to the massive central peak. "It is heavy. Ancient."
At the base of the mountain, they found it.
A massive cavern mouth, shaped like a yawning maw. Icicles the size of spears hung from the top.
Above the entrance, a system tag floated in ominous red text:
[Dungeon: The Frost-Giant's Hall]
[Recommended Level: 28+]
[Status: Uncleared]
"A dungeon," Valen tightened his grip on his shield. "In an open field?"
"This floor is full of surprises," Elian said. "Formation. Titan, front. Seraphina, middle. Eyes open."
They entered the cave.
Immediately, the darkness was pushed back by a dazzling display.
The walls of the tunnel were not rock; they were lined with Boreal Crystals. Thousands of them. They sparkled in the torchlight like diamonds, refracting the light into rainbows.
"Are these... valuable?" Isara whispered, reaching out toward a glowing gem.
"Don't touch," Elian warned, grabbing her wrist. "In a dungeon, even the walls can be traps. We harvest after the boss is dead."
Part 5: The Court of the King
The tunnel widened. The air grew colder, heavy with a pressure that made their lungs ache.
They reached the end of the passage and stepped into a colossal cavern.
Elian raised his fist instantly. "Halt."
The room was a natural amphitheater of ice.
In the center, standing in two rigid rows like royal guards, were eleven creatures.
[Elite Monster: Frost-Rage Yeti]
[Level: 27]
They stood ten feet tall, covered in thick white fur, wielding clubs made of solid ice. They hadn't noticed the intruders yet; they were facing forward, heads bowed in reverence.
At the far end of the room, sitting on a massive throne carved from a single glacier, sat the King.
He was double the size of the others. His fur was silver, and his eyes burned with blue fire.
[Dungeon Boss: Glacius, The Winter King]
[Level: 30]
He sat motionless, a massive greatsword made of black ice resting against his throne.
The sheer pressure emanating from him caused the air to crackle.
"Twelve targets," Roger whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "And no respawns."
Elian stared at the sleeping giants. The sparkling tunnel behind them, the deadly court in front of them.
He slowly lowered his hand to his sword hilt, but he didn't draw it. The echo of drawing a blade might be enough to wake them.
"Nobody move," Elian breathed, sweat freezing on his brow. "One wrong sound, and we get buried in an avalanche."