Round Five: Chimu

She darted through the jagged rocks.
In the winding canyons formed by erosion, resembling a crisscrossing web, the howling winds gathered strength once more, rising in intensity as they began a new round of howls. Only the hardest rocks could survive these relentless gusts, yet even they were marked by the whirlwinds that whipped stones against the cliffs like whips, scattering debris into the sand-filled air.
A crack suddenly erupted on the rugged surface. Violent gusts tore countless fissures, spraying large amounts of dust and acidic smoke high into the air. Massive walls of smoke twisted in the strong winds, with the hot gases emitting shrill noises through the tunnels—sounds that seemed like the canyons themselves were wailing in pain.
The traveler ran along the steep cliff edge covered in slate layers, heading straight toward the cloud of dust at arrow-speed. The churning plumes of smoke swallowed her graceful figure, but a fleeting glimmer appeared in the murky air—as she emerged on the other side, landing on a naturally formed stone bridge. In an instant, she crossed it and, using her hands and feet like a cat, climbed to the top of a steep rock mountain across the bridge before leaping upward.
Though this leap far exceeded what a human—or any humanoid—could accomplish, it was still not enough if her destination was a high rock ledge far away, separated by numerous peaks and valleys. It seemed she was doomed to fall into those jagged rock formations—until a pair of shining wings unfolded from her back, allowing her to glide on the wind beneath the gray sky.
She reached the end of the rock formation. Strong winds rushed out from the rows of openings in the cliffs, creating countless vortices large and small, adding more layers to the roaring symphony that filled the world. She folded her wings, the sharp, shiny metal feathers reconfiguring and disappearing into her perfectly crafted, form-fitting armor.
There must be some connection to the Elemental Plane of Air. The traveler scanned the area with her star-like blue eyes, but all she saw was an endless expanse of rocky terrain. Dust billowed everywhere, like giant tentacles reaching into the clouds. Occasionally, thunderous booms approached, signaling that a massive landslide had just occurred somewhere on those miles-long rock slopes.
The mountains in the distance appeared as mere undulating shades of dark mist. The howling wind rushed past her constantly, with chaotic energies constantly trying to sweep her away, tearing her into pieces as small as sand and stones—but she was not of flesh and blood.
Several tornadoes attracted each other, merging into one enormous storm that roared across the land, causing it to tremble as if overwhelmed. Cracks appeared one after another, like shattered glass. She stood on the cliff, facing the wind, waiting with head held high, listening for the secrets within the storm.

The planes are moving. And she is also within some unimaginable force—one that can even shake the entire multiverse. She walks across this desolate plane battered by fierce winds, like a fish swimming toward the sea along a tributary. It is a place she knows well, yet it also gives her vague, elusive hints.

She has no definite destination. If her other companion were with her, the two of them might gain more information—and she knows his power is greater than hers, allowing him to adapt better to the unpredictable surges of energy. But for some unknown reason, he has been corrupted… She believes he has succumbed to the essence of chaos. This is a very dangerous sign… He seems to be gradually turning from one of her kind into something she has strived to destroy since the day she was born.

The gas eruptions caused by the storm triggered a violent earthquake. Massive cliffs collapsed, and she rode the rolling waves of rocks toward a newly appeared portal between planes. She would head to the next world—same chaos, same uncertainty. She must fulfill her mission; it is who she was born to be.

But suddenly, a question popped into her clockwork-like, precise mind: Who is Keri?

Master Andre, the head of the Transformation Division of the Red Robe Mage Council, paced restlessly in his private library, unconsciously stroking the two invaluable magic rings on his right index and ring fingers. His magical pet, a mercury spider capable of killing with its deadly venom, seemed to sense his anxiety as well, silently climbing onto a shelf near Andre and transforming into the master’s family crest—even though his family had fallen into decline long before his grandfather died.

Andre stopped in front of his large black walnut desk. The desk was covered with scrolls, notes, and blueprints—the fruits of countless sleepless nights of hard work… but now they were little more than piles of waste paper.

The master grunted heavily. He glanced at the rows of bookshelves in the library, filled with spellbooks that many mages dreamed of possessing. They were neatly arranged, numerous, glowing with magical light, mostly containing secrets about alchemy, creation, and how to change the original form and nature of things.

Yet even now, they held no interest for Andre at all. He always saw himself as a master of magical techniques and an outstanding artist, capable of shaping anything he desired at will—especially transforming life itself, a pursuit that fascinated him obsessively… because that feeling told him, Andre, you are the creator.

But now, that girl, lounging carefree in Victor’s castle, was mocking him mercilessly. Why is the world so unfair? Some people spend their entire lives searching for scrolls of Dragon Power, only to find that others can casually acquire magical potions that allow them to grow dragon skin for just a few gold coins in some grocery store!

It truly filled him with indignation. If that miraculous construct belonged to me… Andrei took a deep breath, forcing himself to pull himself away from the throne of the King of Sel City. It wasn’t a big deal. Since it wasn’t unique, he believed his success was only a matter of time.
Jiali, his chief disciple, stood respectfully in the shadows outside the door, careful not to step on the exquisite woolen carpet inside. Perhaps due to the lighting, he appeared much older than Andrei, with tattoos on his bald head resembling wrinkles: “Master, the other mentors have arrived.”
Andrei met Seth in the corridor leading to the meeting room. This handsome master of enchantment had neatly trimmed moustaches and wore numerous magical ornaments. If observed with detection spells, they would surely be colorful, just like a peacock in full display.
“It’s not a good habit for the host to be late at a gathering, respected Master Andrei,” Seth said, hands behind his back, his smile hiding the schemes in his heart.
Andrei suppressed his displeasure and gave him a cold nod as a greeting. In his eyes, Seth’s taste was no different from that of a circus clown—he even wore nose rings!
“Why not go in, Master Seth?” Andrei hurried past him, hoping to minimize exposure to his perfume. The dark red carved doors, tinged with a hint of blood red, sensed someone approaching and silently moved aside, retracting into the walls—another of Andrei’s ingenious creations.
A strong smell of burning tobacco hit him.
Andrei frowned and used a quick gesture to activate the air purification spell kept in the hall.
“Cough, cough, cough!” Seth coughed exaggeratedly. “Ladies and gentlemen, how do you manage to stay here and endure Master Abdell?”
“Because if they left, they’d have to endure you!” The robed mage who replied sat unapologetically at the head of the rectangular meeting table, which was twice as wide as normal. His chin jutted forward, creating multiple layers, and folds of flesh appeared at the back of his neck. His completely shaved head resembled a smaller jar placed on top of a large jar.
He tilted his head and spat a long streak of purplish-red saliva under the table, then used his rounded fingers to open another packet of silver paper and stuffed a square-shaped smoked tobacco into his mouth.
Andrei shuddered at the sight and decided to replace all the furniture and carpets in the meeting room once Abdell left.
“Efficiency, efficiency! Is drinking tea and chatting the purpose of this gathering? Are we supposed to sit here waiting for Victor to show up?” The obese Abdell’s wizard to his right had a gloomy expression and a high, hooked nose, resembling some kind of demon from the abyss. His grand mage robes swayed with his movements, the shadows in the folds seeming to hide countless restless ghosts.

“What else can we do besides drinking tea and chatting?” Abdel said while chewing tobacco, hot ash spilling from his mouth and landing on the table, leaving burnt spots that made his mouth look like a giant chimney. “Victor has already rejected our demands! He’s determined to protect that girl and plans to use her to cause us trouble!”
Seth stroked his chin and glanced toward the far corner of the lounge.
“He refuses to hand over your defected student? That’s unprecedented!” the chief of enchantments said in a feigned tone of surprise. “Every chief in the Red Robes Mage Order has absolute authority over the members of their faction! Isn’t that our law?”
The noblewoman in red stood alone in front of the crimson floor-length curtain, as if merged with it, her pale face floating amidst the blood-red hues: “Law? Weren’t our laws established by that lich?”
“Mentor Isabella,” Andrei stepped forward a few paces before stopping. He really didn’t want to sit at the same table as Abdel. “Since your former student has now sided with Victor… what’s your plan? To be honest, I don’t want the plan to be delayed any longer. The sooner we get those ancient mysterious mechs, the sooner we’ll gain the upper hand.”
Isabella turned around.
The blood-red Aio stones on her forehead glowed faintly, like a third eye: “Klaustina won’t side with anyone. Though I’m still not sure what the lich has in mind or why he favors her so much… but you don’t need to worry about it. I have my own plans for her.”
“No need to worry?” The man with the hooked nose sneered. “We’ve never worried about the problems between you and your student. But now she has a complete ancient mech! I still don’t understand why we can’t find a way to capture it. Why go to such lengths?”
Isabella replied with a cold laugh: “Because we can’t capture it, just as we can’t directly attack the lich’s fortress, Mentor Cynis. Do you really need to experiment personally to believe this conclusion?”
Cynis also retorted in a sharp tone: “So let her cause us trouble under Victor’s orders? There are so many realms in the Outer World—when will we ever find her? Don’t forget, two more chiefs haven’t joined us yet! And Lucia from the protection faction has always been your ally!”
“Lucia and Virgil have always been close to Victor,” Andrei interrupted the argument between the two chiefs. “It’s already difficult enough to keep them neutral. And wasn’t the fierce argument between Virgil and Victor a few days ago also thanks to Mentor Isabella?”

“Anyway, our plans have gone fairly well so far,” Isabella said, glancing at the other four chiefs with varied expressions. “Rest assured, the Lich won’t allow conflicts to surface openly. We can make good use of that. No matter how powerful the Lich is… we control five of the eight factions of the Red Robes Order. As long as the secret conflicts don’t turn into war, he can’t undermine our foundation. Time is on his side, but we have more room to maneuver. Once we have the ancient constructs under our command… the initiative will be in our hands. As for my disobedient student, Klaustina—”

She turned to look at the deep red curtain, her lips moving as if sending a message.

Abdel, who had been chewing nonstop, saw a man and a woman emerge from the curtain—mainly the man in front of him. His cheeks drooped as he spat out his cigarette ash in disdain.

“Abdel, Master,” the man stepped forward quickly and bowed to him first, his voice sounding strangely stiff.

A thick plume of smoke hit the man’s lowered head, causing the muscles on his face to twitch, but he held back.

“It seems you’ve learned a thing or two…” Abdel stretched out his words. “You don’t seem as clueless as before. Enough, get up! You’re no longer under my control.”

“I will always be your student,” the man stood up, a complex pair of lenses embedded where his eyes should be, protruding awkwardly. Several filigreed gold tubes ran from behind his ears into his red robe, and a mysterious device was faintly visible at the opening of his collar, just below his Adam’s apple.

“Mentor Isabella, do you plan to use these two, your former defeated subordinates, to take on her?” Sinis leaned back in his chair. “Isn’t that a bit risky?”

The woman standing beside Isabella adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses and smiled sweetly.

“Oh my… it’s precisely because they were once her defeated subordinates that we understand her so well.” Her smile seemed directed at everyone in the hall. “When it comes to recklessness, none can compare to the construct by her side. But if recklessness could solve everything, wouldn’t the noblest profession in the world be barbarians? Please rest assured, mentors. We’ll hold on to her like bulldogs! Right, Ale?”

The man with the strange lenses turned around. The polygonal gems at the front of the lenses flashed with a light like embers in a furnace.

“Of course.”

Morrill was packing her things.

The Lich Victor had given her quite a few good things. Besides dimension pockets and plane maps, there was also a Harmonious Form Ring that would protect her from the negative effects of different planes during travel, a enchanted crossbow for Kaylo, along with various other useful magical items and scrolls—all of which she placed in the dimension pockets, planning to check them carefully once they set off to see if anything had been tampered with.

She reached into the pocket at her waist, her fingertips touching a cold small object. A tingling numbness shot up her fingers, startling the female mage. It was Lady Mist’s necklace.

What should she do with it?

This pendant holds the sacred realm of Lady Mist — a truly troublesome issue.
Morril thought for a moment, then saw Kayro lying on a terrace not far away, enjoying the view. She quietly stood up and went over to 47.
Although he seemed to be lying there with his eyes closed, resting, the red glow in his eyes intensified as the female mage approached.
Seeing Morril’s expression, 47 said nothing, instead using his gaze to express his question.
With her back to Kayro, Morril took out the pendant. The sky-blue gem rotated back and forth, with a faint mist swirling inside it like starlight, making it impossible to look away.
“Please keep it for me,” Morril said softly.
47 stared at the star-shaped sapphire on the pendant for a while before opening his mouth.
The female mage was stunned for a moment, then gave him a annoyed look, as if to ask if that would work.
47 nodded slightly, still with his feet on the table, and opened his mouth even wider. His jaws formed a nearly 180-degree angle, revealing three rows of razor-sharp fangs that gleamed in the light.
Morril reluctantly let go. The gem pendant fell onto 47’s metallic tongue, stayed there for a moment, then slipped into the abyss of his throat. A swirl of mist appeared in his mouth, as if trying to escape this metallic prison — 47’s fangs stretched out abruptly, interlocking to seal off any escape route, before he slowly closed his mouth.
The female mage stared at 47. Suddenly, she bent down and got close to his iron face, trying to figure out how he could make such strange facial movements.
Kayro seemed to sense something and turned around in confusion — but all she saw was Morril and 47 in an intimate position. The girl stuck out her tongue and turned away with an understanding look.