Just as Oliver was teleported somewhere else. Similar thing happened to others too.
The world stopped spinning, and gravity returned with a brutal slam.
Isolde didn't stumble. She adjusted her stance mid-air, landing gracefully on the cold stone tiles, her heels clicking sharply in the silence. She straightened her posture, brushing a speck of imaginary dust from her midnight-blue combat dress, and scanned her surroundings.
She was in a vast, cylindrical library tower. But there were no stairs. Instead, massive stone bookshelves floated in the air, drifting aimlessly like clouds. The ceiling was lost in darkness, and below… an abyss of swirling blue mist.
"Where… where are we?"
A voice echoed from behind her—shaken, trying too hard to sound authoritative.
Isolde turned slowly.
Standing there, sword drawn and glowing with faint holy light, was Daniel. Flanking him were three royal knights and two minor nobles who looked like they were about to wet themselves.
