Rotell and Arthur walked side by side as they began their walk down to the docks.
The wind swept across the slope, stirring the street-side trees until their branches swayed and whispered with a wordless static.
The road curved gently down the hill, broad enough for five carriages to travel side by side.
Along the outer edge rose a thick stone railing, smoothed by centuries of handprints, with a wide-open view of the river and the harbor just beyond. On the inner side of the slope, the hill curved upwards into a steep cliff, then transitioned into layers of buildings and terraced balconies, most of which were part of restaurants designed to overlook the waterfront.
From this height, the sound of the city rolled upwards to meet them.
Voices blended with music and laughter, concealing the distant calls of the dockworkers.
With every step downwards, the noise only grew thicker, more alive, until it filled in from all sides.
Near the end of the slope, they passed a 'festival checkpoint'.
Imperial guards stood in a relaxed posture, each looking relatively bored, beside rune-lit archways that rippled faintly as the crowds moved through them one at a time. Whatever the runes were scanning for, Rotell didn't know, and judging by the guards' indifferent expressions, neither did they.
Beyond the entry arch, the road grew busy…
Rotell looked forward.
They passed a balloon stand bobbing with bright colors, several food stalls already surrounded by customers, clusters of children darting through gaps in the crowd, and countless parties of foreign adventurers. Merchants, travelers, and visitors from all across the continent flowed past in steady streams, their accents and clothing clashing visibly with the overseas arrivals, making it extremely evident who was who. Overhead, banners bearing the crest of the Hellion Empire hung alongside foreign flags and unfamiliar guild emblems, appearing to be a deliberate display of welcome.
Once beyond the checkpoint, the festival truly opened up to them...
The streets widened, then brightened, sometimes packed shoulder to shoulder, while at others they opened into strangely quiet stretches before filling again with the festive fervor of the fair.
Food stalls lined the roads in dense clusters, the air heavy with oil, spices, and sweets.
Performers claimed the open spaces, with musicians playing atop crates and balconies, illusionists shaping light into ethereal magical displays, and wandering troupes dancing through the crowd. There was even a circus from across the ocean, its tent rising high above the rooftops like something out of a fantasy book.
Everywhere Rotell looked, people were celebrating, trading, telling stories, exchanging goods, or greeting the newly arrived guests from afar!
Everyone seemed to be getting along, at least on the surface.
They emerged into a vast gravel square near the heart of the harbor, and the noise swelled to an almost deafening level. The space had been deliberately cleared to absorb the surge of people, long prepared from the constant stream of outsiders from the docks.
Wagons crept along the edges, while carriages moved in slow steps, unloading supplies and festive goods, while the central stretch churned with motion. Delegations gathered beneath tall factional banners, easily distinguishable, while adventurers clustered around message boards and recruitment stalls. Officials moved briskly between temporary offices and the harbor gates, trying to remain unnoticed despite the chaos and countless eyes.
The party advanced—
Behind them, several servants trailed after Rotell and Arthur, carrying documents and ceremonial gifts, careful not to fall behind and get consumed by the crowd.
This was not merely a celebration.
That much was clear from the atmosphere alone…
The festival was a week-long event with a purpose.
Officially, it welcomed the overseas guests who had arrived by ship, but unofficially, it drew people from across the continent, gathering talent, resources, and alliances in preparation for the Third Calamity. Deals were struck in taverns, introductions were arranged in public spaces, and relationships were forged over shared meals and stunning spectacles. It was a bit reminiscent of the Grand Gathering, only without the burden of that ridiculously long pilgrimage…
At its peak, the festival would culminate in a grand parade that passed through the entire city!
That would come around a week later.
-
Beyond the square, masts crowded the horizon, sails overlapping like a forest of white cloth. Dock platforms moved with crews, officials, and onlookers, while new arrivals continued to stream in from the Lularun River. The Moonstone Harbor was chaotic, almost feverishly so, and at its center, the unseen hand of diplomacy had already silently begun to shake.
Rotell walked with heavy steps.
Suddenly—
She paused…
The flow of the festival continued around her, but something cut through the noise. Raised voices, sharp and piercingly aggressive, were carried with an unnatural stab. They were loud enough to draw attention, even while one was submerged in the music and chatter.
The sharp tone alone was enough to sour the air.
Rotell turned her head.
Before she could speak, one of the servants moved on instinct and slipped ahead, disappearing into the crowd.
A brief moment later—
When the servant returned, he leaned in close and whispered quietly to Rotell. His words were short, but troubling enough to make her eyes narrow.
Rotell nodded at him, and he returned.
Without hesitation, she shifted her direction and moved towards the disturbance, wanting to take a quick look.
Arthur and the others followed in her steps…
-
The 'argument' drew a small crowd almost immediately.
A cluster of overseas adventurers stood near the edge of the plaza, their foreign badges highlighted against their travel-worn clothes.
They faced a smaller, but unmistakably disciplined, group of large men just across from them, a mercenary team no doubt, that, from the few words that had already been spoken, seemed to have only just returned to the Cross Continent after many years of executing an overseas contract. Their armor was mismatched but well-maintained, their stance loose but ready to attack, and their posture was reminiscent of veterans who had survived countless missions.
"It has nothing to do with us!" one of the mercenaries snapped, her voice sharp and loud. "Our team operates independently, we can go where we want!"
"You don't get to say that anymore!" an adventurer shot back, stepping forward aggressively.
"This isn't your backyard anymore! The south banned 'your kind'."
He was naturally talking about mercenaries, but…
That was a lie—
Only the mercenary alliance received a ban, but this man was still trying to use it to suppress them…
A ripple ran through the crowd.
Some nodded in agreement, while others frowned.
They all understood what was going on.
The rivalry between adventurers and mercenaries was something that had been cemented by time.
The grudge between these two groups of people only further exasperated the issue…
"Don't lump us in with the likes of the Mercenary Alliance!" another mercenary sneered. "We were never part of it! We follow the rules! We're an independent force that contracts directly with the individual city lords!"
This was true—
Their current mission, the one they had just returned from, was a mission issued directly by the city lord of 'Skysen City' (The city used as an evacuation site during the first calamity). They were tasked to go overseas with a merchant crew using a special vessel. This mission was related to the Royal Tower, which allowed them to leave the continent as a sort of 'escort'.
"So you stayed active after the ban!" Someone in the crowd shouted.
What a troublemaker…
"You're not listening!!"
"We are independent!" the mercenary roared. "Can't you use your fucking ears!? Our contracts are filed under the City Lord of Skysen City! It's fully legal and properly documented! If anything, we work for the empire! THE FUCKING EMPIER!"
His temples throbbed…
Following his roar, murmurs spread faster and faster, eventually—
Names began to surface on a wave of low voices.
Something about the 'Iron Wake' Mercenary Group, and a series of 'deep-sea escort missions'. They were veterans who were too expensive to hire and too dangerous to underestimate!
They were also super sketchy people!
That was exactly who these people were…
The adventurers pressed harder, their accusations piling up. This time, they weren't just about the ban, but they also referenced things that happened in the past year. It was clear that he was out for blood. Old grudges from outside started to surface, twisted by the opportunity, and weaponized.
The argument continued until—
Someone shoved!
The tension snapped!
And~
—A fight exploded just like that…
The Imperial guards moved in on the wind, appearing almost immediately.
Within moments, both groups were disarmed and restrained, their protests swallowed by gloved hands and rough jabs. Their complaints and excuses followed as they were 'escorted away', disappearing into the mass of people as if they had never been there in the first place.
From the back of the gathering—
Rotell and her group watched in silence.
'Small conflicts' like this were happening more frequently with each passing day. The tension didn't seem to have a source, but everyone knew the true reason. They stood just beyond the densest part of the crowd, half-hidden by a banner and the passing bodies of many people.
Rotell said nothing...
Her gaze shifted calmly between the two sides, noting their reactions, desperation, and intent. To her, it almost seemed like an act. When the festival noise finally surged back, she sighed.
Why did this feel staged?
Who was it for?
Surely, it wasn't for her, right?
She looked away…
"Independent or not," she murmured, "it's only a matter of time." Then she turned away, her dress swaying in the wind as she rejoined the flow of the festival, leaving the argument behind.
To her, it was just another crack beneath the surface of the celebration…
* * *
Soon, Rotell reached the docks…
As the road widened and the sound of the sea began to overtake the crowd, she finally approached the wharf. The scent of salt was thick in the air, mixed with shouted commands, ringing bells, and the constant creak of straining wood. Waves struck hulls and stone, clashing and splashing, sending water over the sides of the docs, the rhythm growing louder with each step, spritzing mist into the air.
Unlike the fairgrounds behind them, this place felt a bit more serious.
Rotell and her entourage stepped onto the docks, and the sheer disorder of the Moonstone Harbor finally revealed itself. It was difficult to describe without being there…
Hundreds of docks extended far into the water, each one constructed for a different purpose. Narrow wooden piers, much smaller than the central pier, catered to fishing boats and small merchant vessels, their planks darkened by age and constant wear and tare, while massive stone-stood docks supported transport ships and long-range vessels.
Some docks were orderly and clean, while others were crowded and chaotic.
But all of them were busy, filled with people.
Looking around…
Rotell had been here before, once when she was just a little girl, but back then, only around twenty percent of the harbor had been in use. Now, with a quick glance, nearly eighty percent of the docks were occupied. Ships filled almost every available berth, leaving only those reserved for 'special purposes' untouched. The harbor was packed far beyond what she had expected.
No, perhaps even the empire had underestimated the incentive that came with the unsealing of the—
- 'Royal Ring' Secret Realm'…
Masts rose in dense clusters, their rope rigging overlapping until the sky itself seemed to become tangled overhead.
Rotell and the others moved beneath, passing straight through one of the largest docks.
All around, flags from multiple regions, all foreign, ranging from the many continents, islands and unique settlements throughout the world of Pillomal, hung beside one another. Some bore the crests of familiar empires and guilds, while others displayed symbols Rotell recognized only from the diplomatic reports her father had shown her in recent days. The colors clashed and blended into a strange patchwork that felt chaotic, yet oddly harmonious, no, it was refreshing.
As for the question of safety…
Security here was unmistakably tight.
The guards of the Imperial Navy patrolled in doubles, sometimes in triples, in their regular numbers along each pier. Inspection teams moved constantly, checking cargo and crews, while small watch towers overlooked the harbor from every possible angle.
The atmosphere was controlled, tense, yet orderly.
-
As Rotell continued through the docs, the reason for the heightened security became even clearer.
As for the source—
It was the overseas adventurers…
Although Rotell wasn't exactly sure how her father had drawn so many people so quickly, it was likely that he had announced the secret realm by having 'that family' exert their power, using it as 'bait' to pull attention from all around the world.
It wasn't an exaggeration to say that people from nearly every continent had gathered.
They had come from every corner of the sea—
From the vast Cellistan Continent to the Beast Continent ruled by the Beasts and Beastman clans, to the Sky Clan Continent under the sky clans' rule. There were even members of the Sea Clan and Plant Clan present, alongside pirates, wandering professionals, wandering practitioners, and nearly every kind of individual you could imagine. The most abundant of these outsiders were naturally the Adventurers, which came from the Adventurers Guild Branch Halls on every continent...
It was so thorough that Rotell couldn't help but wonder if this was planned by her father in advance.
As for when this had all started…
They, the adventurers, had first arrived around a month ago—
Not quietly, no-no-no, and not in small numbers either!
Unlike the Second Calamity, where they had only sent over a 'small team' of representatives, this time they had come in full force! A large portion of the docked ships belonged to them, possibly close to forty percent of the total harbor's current capacity!
Their presence completely dominated the waterfront!
-
Rotell walked along the docks at an even pace, her servants close behind.
The sailors and dockworkers paused mid-task to stare as she passed. In that dress, she looked completely out of place among the ropes, stone, steel, and salt-sheared wooden surfaces.
From above—
Magitech cranes lifted cargo overhead, their shadows flowing across her vision as the various crews shouted orders around her. The water churned violently beneath the docks, its spray leaping upwards from time to time, until an observant guard flicked it aside.
Amid all the noise and motion, one thing stood out clearly—
The Moonstone Harbor was the center of today's events…
-