The days following Alex’s induction into the town guard passed in a blur of routine and monotony. Each morning, he would rise before dawn, don his uniform, and join his fellow guards for patrols along the bustling streets of the port town. The work was grueling but straightforward—maintaining order, breaking up the occasional brawl, and ensuring that the merchants and townsfolk felt safe. It was a far cry from the chaos of the battlefield, but it gave Alex a sense of purpose, however fleeting.


    He quickly learned the rhythms of the town—the best places to eat, the merchants to avoid, and the alleys where trouble was most likely to brew. His skills with a dagger earned him a measure of respect among his colleagues, though he remained an outsider, a man with a past he refused to discuss. Still, he was grateful for the steady pay, the roof over his head, and the chance to rebuild his strength.


    But Alex knew this was only a temporary reprieve. The compass in his tunic was a constant reminder of the bargain he had made with Kronos. He needed to grow stronger, to gather the chaos energy or divinity required to power the compass and find a way back home. The guard provided stability, but it was not the path to the power he sought.


    His opportunity came sooner than expected.


    One evening, as Alex returned to the barracks after a long day of patrols, he was summoned to the captain’s office. The room was sparsely furnished, with a wooden desk, a few chairs, and a map of the region pinned to the wall. The captain, a grizzled veteran named Drakos, sat behind the desk, his expression unreadable.


    “Sullivan,” Drakos said, gesturing for Alex to sit. “You’ve been with us for a few days now. How are you finding it?”


    “It’s good work,” Alex replied cautiously. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.”


    Drakos nodded, his eyes narrowing as he studied Alex. “Good. Because an opportunity has come up—one that might interest you. A team from the capital has arrived in town. They’re planning an expedition and need two additional guards. They’ve paid handsomely for the service, and I’ve selected you and another recruit, Leonidas, to join them.”


    Alex’s heart quickened. An expedition could mean danger, but it could also mean a chance to gather the resources and knowledge he needed. “What kind of expedition?” he asked.


    Drakos leaned back in his chair, his expression grim. “They’re tight-lipped about the details, but from what I gather, it involves tracking down a rare creature. They’ve promised good pay, but it won’t be easy. You’ll be gone for at least a week, maybe longer. Are you up for it?”


    Alex didn’t hesitate. “I’ll do it.”


    Drakos nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes. “Good. You’ll depart tomorrow at dawn. Report to the docks—they’ve got a ship waiting. And Sullivan… be careful. These people from the capital… they’re not to be trusted.”


    ---


    The next morning, Alex stood on the docks, his gear packed and his mind racing. He had used his advance pay to purchase supplies—dry rations, a waterskin, a small kit of medicinal herbs, and a few other essentials. He had also bought a better pair of boots and a thicker cloak, knowing that the journey ahead would be harsh.


    Beside him stood Leonidas, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a perpetual scowl. He was a few years older than Alex, with a reputation for being brash and hot-headed. The two men exchanged a nod but said little. They were not friends, but they would need to rely on each other in the days to come.


    The ship was a modest vessel, with a single mast and a crew of about a dozen. The leader of the expedition, a man named Lysander, greeted them at the gangplank. He was tall and lean, with sharp features and cold, calculating eyes. His attire was a mix of practicality and opulence—a leather jerkin reinforced with steel, a fur-lined cloak, and a sword with an ornate hilt.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    “You must be the guards,” Lysander said, his voice smooth but devoid of warmth. “Welcome aboard. You’ll find your quarters below deck. We set sail within the hour.”


    As Alex and Leonidas boarded the ship, they were immediately put to work. The crew, a rough and surly bunch, wasted no time in assigning them menial tasks. Alex spent the first few hours scrubbing the deck, his hands raw from the coarse brushes and saltwater. Leonidas, less inclined to follow orders, got into a shouting match with one of the crew members, which ended with a punch to the gut and a warning from Lysander.


    “You’re here to work, not cause trouble,” Lysander said, his voice icy. “Remember your place.”


    As the ship set sail, Alex found himself growing increasingly uneasy. The crew’s hostility was palpable, and Lysander’s demeanor was anything but reassuring. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this expedition than met the eye.


    ---


    Over the next few days, Alex kept his head down, doing his best to avoid conflict while observing everything around him. The ship sailed south, following the coastline before veering out into open water. The weather was fair, but the mood on board was tense. The crew spoke in hushed tones, and Lysander spent most of his time in his cabin, emerging only to issue orders or check their progress.


    One evening, as Alex was cleaning the galley, he overheard a conversation between two crew members. They were discussing the mission in low, urgent voices.


    “I don’t like it,” one of them said. “Hunting that thing… it’s suicide.”


    “We don’t have a choice,” the other replied. “Lysander’s paying good money. And besides, he’s got a plan.”


    “A plan that involves poisoning half the crew,” the first man muttered. “You really trust him?”


    Alex’s blood ran cold. He strained to hear more, but the men fell silent as another crew member entered the galley. He finished his work quickly and retreated to his quarters, his mind racing.


    Poisoning the crew? Using them as bait? What kind of mission was this?


    ---


    The next morning, the ship reached its destination—a small, rocky island shrouded in mist. The crew dropped anchor, and Lysander gathered everyone on deck.


    “Listen carefully,” he said, his voice carrying over the sound of the waves. “Our target is on this island. It’s a creature unlike anything you’ve ever seen—fast, strong, and deadly. We’ll need to lure it out, and that’s where you come in.”


    He gestured to a crate that had been brought up from below deck. Inside were several vials of a strange, glowing liquid.


    “This is a paralyzing agent,” Lysander explained. “It will immobilize the creature long enough for us to capture it. But it’s volatile, and it needs to be administered carefully. Some of you will act as bait, drawing the creature into the open. The rest will set the trap.”


    Alex’s stomach churned. He had heard enough to know that Lysander’s plan involved more than just the crew. He and Leonidas were expendable—pawns in a dangerous game.


    As the crew began preparing for the mission, Alex pulled Leonidas aside. “We need to be careful,” he said in a low voice. “Lysander’s planning something. He’s going to use us as bait.”


    Leonidas frowned, his eyes narrowing. “You sure about that?”


    “I overheard the crew talking,” Alex said. “They’re planning to poison some of us to lure the creature out.”


    Leonidas’s expression darkened. “That bastard. What do we do?”


    “We play along for now,” Alex said. “But we stay alert. If things go south, we’ll need to be ready to fight.”


    ---


    The team disembarked on the island, their footsteps crunching on the rocky shore. The air was thick with the smell of salt and decay, and the mist clung to the ground like a shroud. Lysander led the way, his sword drawn, while the crew followed behind, carrying the vials of paralyzing agent.


    As they ventured inland, the terrain grew more treacherous. The ground was littered with jagged rocks and twisted roots, and the mist made it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. Alex’s senses were on high alert, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger.


    They soon reached a cave, its entrance partially hidden by a tangle of vines. The ground around it was littered with bones—some human, some animal—and the air was thick with the stench of rot.


    “This is it,” Lysander said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The creature’s lair. Set the trap.”


    The crew moved quickly, placing the vials of paralyzing agent around the cave entrance. Alex and Leonidas were positioned at the front, their weapons drawn. Lysander stood behind them, his expression unreadable.


    “When the creature emerges, hold your ground,” Lysander instructed. “We’ll immobilize it, but we need to draw it out first.”


    Alex’s heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the tension in the air, the sense of impending danger. He glanced at Leonidas, who gave him a grim nod.


    The wait was agonizing. Minutes passed, the silence broken only by the sound of the wind and the distant crash of waves. Then, without warning, a low growl echoed from within the cave.


    The creature emerged slowly, its form obscured by the mist. It was massive, with thick, scaly skin and glowing eyes. Its movements were deliberate, its gaze fixed on the group.


    “Now!” Lysander shouted.


    The crew activated the vials, releasing a cloud of glowing mist. The creature roared, its movements slowing as the paralyzing agent took effect. But before the crew could celebrate, the creature lunged forward, its claws slashing through the air.


    Alex and Leonidas barely had time to react. They dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the creature’s attack. The crew scattered, their shouts echoing through the mist.


    “Fall back!” Lysander ordered, his voice filled with panic.


    But it was too late. The creature was upon them, its roars shaking the ground. Alex scrambled to his feet, his dagger in hand, as the chaos unfolded around him.