Season 1. Chapter 75: The Anticipation [half chapter]
Chapter: "Early July – The Calm Before Crimson"
Setting: Grasslands on the edge of the Enchanted Forest, post-battle haze, early Camp Arc
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The sky above was a sea of soft clouds drifting slowly across a brilliant summer blue. The winds danced lightly through the grass, brushing against iron, cloth, and sweat-streaked faces.
Oliver lowered his iron sword, its white wraps fluttering like tiny banners of a victory hard-earned. He exhaled, his breath rising into the warm air, still pulsing faintly with the heat of battle. Around him, the field bore its scars: uprooted turf, deep thread grooves, and a burnt ring left by Nico's flames.
Beside him, Zack Erebus retracted his nonexistent threads, flicking his fingers in the air as if wiping away the remnants of combat. The threads vanished into his illusionary space inventory, unseen and unreachable by the physical world.
Nico, already ten paces away, flicked fire from his fingertips as if playing with it idly, though the patch of scorched earth near him said otherwise. His hoodie was half-zipped, sweat glinting off his forehead, but his smirk held strong.
The mini land beast—a living bush with claws of bark and thorny vines—was gone, turned into ash and dust scattered by the wind.
Victory.
Yet, there was no celebration.
Oliver stepped away from the others and sat on a nearby hill's slope, pulling off his white mask for the first time since the trial began. His messy brown hair spilled out, tousled and sweat-stuck beneath the edge of his green hoodie. He pulled his phone from his inventory sleeve—a sleek, enchanted model adapted for Traveler use.
A ding sounded softly.
A notification.
> [System Message: "Late August anomaly detected. Risk Level: Orange."]
[Event Codename: "Duskwane Surge" — All ranked Travelers must prepare.]
[Mysticoin Flow expected to stall. Land Beast Movements predicted. Prepare for the Crimson Month.]
Oliver stared at the glowing screen.
"Late August…" he muttered, voice just above a whisper. "Something big's coming…"
He swiped deeper—more encrypted logs, more premonitions of system instability, potential reset warnings, and a strange name flashing in encrypted red:
> [Hibiscus Protocol – Unknown Authorization]
His fingers hesitated, hovering above the glyphs.
Zack, now standing behind him silently, looked at the sky without a word. Nico rolled a small flame between his fingers and snorted, "What's it say this time?"
Oliver didn't respond immediately. He turned his head slightly, the wind carrying his voice like a ripple.
> "We're not done. This was just… the first ripple."
Zack narrowed his eyes. "Duskwane... August."
Nico squinted. "You mean the Crimson Month?"
Oliver nodded slowly. "Yeah. The land beasts were just the warning."
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As the trio stood on the edge of the burnt and torn grassland, a shadow passed overhead—a flock of spectral birds migrating south, a sign often whispered among Caelus folk: the tides of magic are about to shift.
In the distance, others prepared their own arcs—Patchouli among the goblins, Garrick nearing the Netherworld, Rowin unknowingly approaching ancient magic, and somewhere high above them all, the Verdant Deity Flora watched… amused.
And far across the world, someone named Hibiscus was already rewriting the script.
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Chapter: "The Forgotten Realm of Antares"
Setting: Traveler Camp Base – Dwarven Quarters / Netherworld Gateway
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The old stone walls of the Dwarven housing creaked faintly in the warm midday winds. Inside, Hale Eryndor—the stoic, broad-shouldered former noble now Dwarven captain—was organizing tightly sealed chests filled with tools, scrolls, and assorted Mysticoins. The room smelled of iron, polished wood, and fire dust.
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
Garrick Ironhart, slightly out of breath, broom still slung over his shoulder like a sword, peeked in.
> "Uh… Hale. I think… I think you need to see something."
Hale raised a brow. "This better not be another talking mushroom incident."
> "Worse," Garrick said, serious for once. "It's about the portal."
That got Hale's attention.
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Moments later, both were standing at the Traveler Base's deepest chamber—a cavernous underhall where flickering red runes lit up the floor in a haunting circle. Centered within was the Netherworld Gate—an old, unstable portal like a shattered mirror of flame and void. Cold sweat crept along Garrick's neck despite the heat.
Floating above the portal's frame, a single cracked stone tablet rotated slowly—an ancient relic engraved in jagged red script.
Beside the portal lay a heavy black-bound book, covered in embers and scorched metal trim. Hale carefully picked it up. It was the Netherworld Encyclopedia, once owned by high-ranking scholars of Caelus.
> "Antares," Hale murmured. "Last of the Red Lords. Possibly not even human."
He flipped through dusty pages as Garrick hovered over his shoulder, eyes wide.
> "Some thought he was a dragon… others say a fragment of Reid himself… from before the incident..."
The chapter was vague.
Antares ruled the Netherworld not through conquest, but presence.
Wherever Antares walked, magma sang and flame obeyed.
He vanished over 5,000 years ago. Some say he fused with the core of Caelus.
What wasn't vague was the warning inked in blood-red lettering:
> "Do not enter the Netherworld alone. The seal may be thinned. Whatever still lingers… may not be dead."
Hale slammed the book shut. The air itself pulsed with heat as the portal shimmered—a warning pulse, not an invitation.
> "So," Hale said, dusting his gloves off. "You still think we should take a look?"
Garrick looked at him, nervous but smiling like an idiot.
> "...Y-Yeah?"
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Above them, the portal shimmered darker, the glow pulsing once—like the slow breath of something ancient.
And deep, deep in the Antares Realm, embers stirred.
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[End of Chapter Preview Notes]
Reid remains ambiguous but linked to major world-shaping events. His hair being red, like Antares's aura, raises suspicion.
The "Incident" involving Reid will likely tie into the coming Verdant Arc or even the Duskwane Event in August.
[Garrick's curiosity will put him in unexpected danger—possibly his first step into becoming a more major figure.]
[The Netherworld will act as both:]
[A plot vault for past legendary history]
[And a test realm for upcoming Travelers seeking powerful potion materials… if they can survive.]