The portal pulsed steadily, a deep green light swirling inside its frame, trapped in constant motion like waves rolling in and out. The energy didn't flicker, didn't waver—it was stable, perfectly functional, ready to transport them to their mission zone.
Leon stared at it for a moment, feeling the slight pressure against his skin from standing too close. The magic had weight—nothing physical, but something felt whenever you stepped into an active portal. Like the space around it was bending just enough to remind you that normal rules didn't apply once you crossed through.
The others stood behind him, shifting their gear slightly, preparing for the transition. It was always good to brace for it, even though the process was instant.
"I swear," Arin muttered, adjusting his bag strap, "if this thing dumps me into another random location, I'm filing a complaint."
Kara raised an eyebrow. "Who exactly are you complaining to?"
"The gods of misfortune," Arin answered.
Reid sighed. "Just step in."
Leon didn't wait.
He moved forward first, walking into the shimmering entrance without hesitation. The others followed.
The shift hit instantly.
A wave of cold pressed against them, far sharper than expected. The warmth of Old Ferrun was gone, replaced by the biting chill of Harrow's Edge, sinking in fast, enough to make the transition feel more dramatic than it was.
Leon steadied himself, blinking as the world reformed around them.
Night had already settled. The sky stretched far and wide, a dark endless shade of black with only faint stars breaking through the layers of thick clouds overhead. No moonlight. No brightness. Just the dim glow of scattered stars fighting against the heavy atmosphere.
The terrain beneath them was rugged, uneven patches of hardened dirt marked by frost clinging to parts of the ground. Rocks jutted out at awkward angles, cracked and weathered from exposure. Trees surrounded them, their crooked branches stretching upward in misshapen forms, bare from the season, looking more like twisted skeletal limbs frozen mid-motion than anything alive.
It wasn't eerie, but it wasn't welcoming either.
Leon shifted slightly, adjusting his balance as he exhaled, watching his breath form mist in the air.
Arin pulled his coat tighter. "Okay. Definitely colder than expected."
"We secure a location first," Reid said, already focused on the surroundings. "Then we figure out the next step."
"There's no movement yet," Laina added, her bow resting lightly against her side. "But we shouldn't assume that will last."
Leon wasn't expecting trouble right away. But there was something about the sheer stillness of the place that made it impossible to ignore the reality that creatures lived here.
Harrow's Edge was known for wildlife—specifically, beasts.
Beasts were ranked based on their threat level.
F-rank creatures were nothing more than oversized animals. Large deer, strange birds, mutated variations of regular wildlife that weren't aggressive unless attacked.
E-rank was where real danger started. Beasts in this category weren't just bigger—they were hunters. Active predators that roamed for food, attacking on sight if they sensed weakness. Most adventurers at F-rank knew how to handle them—but only in controlled encounters, not in unknown territory.
D-rank were where problems truly began. These creatures had strength beyond normal limits, speed that could overwhelm unprepared adventurers, and sometimes abilities that made them unpredictable.
Anything beyond D-rank—C, B, and A—required experienced teams to handle. These monsters didn't just fight instinctively. They calculated their attacks, moved with precision, stalked prey deliberately.
And past those…
S-rank and above were beyond normal missions.
Encountering an S-rank beast meant survival wasn't about fighting—it was about escaping before the fight started. Anything above that—SS or even SSS, the legendary rank—were creatures only spoken about in myths.
Leon considered all of this carefully. If they ran into trouble, it would likely be E-rank creatures. Maybe D-rank if their luck was particularly bad.
Kara tapped her blades against her hip. "So, do we think anything's watching us already?"
Arin shifted uncomfortably. "Don't say things like that."
Reid ignored them, gathering fallen branches from the ground. "Fire first. Then we move."
Laina stepped forward, rolling her wrist. "I've got it."
She raised a hand over the pile of wood, her fingers twitching slightly. A flicker of orange light formed above her palm before expanding downward. The fire caught instantly, flames licking at the dry bark and spreading quickly.
Arin let out a low whistle. "See, that is way better than fumbling around with flint."
Kara smirked. "And way cooler."
Laina shrugged, watching the fire stabilize. "It's fire. What did you expect?"
Leon sat near the edge of the flames, stretching his legs out, his hand resting lightly on his sword. The group settled in, pulling small portions of food from their packs—enough to last for emergencies, not for indulgence.
The night stretched on, the fire crackling against the otherwise silent wilderness.
Leon glanced around idly, scanning their immediate surroundings. Nothing yet.
He exhaled, leaning back slightly, his mind wandering until his gaze landed on something simple—a small plant near one of the rocks, its leaves faintly green despite the frost surrounding it.
Out of boredom, he reached out.
Activating Analyse, he focused on the plant, expecting to see nothing particularly interesting.
A new screen appeared in his vision.
[Item Identified: Frostleaf]
[Properties: High medicinal value. Can be used for wound treatment, reduces pain and inflammation, aids recovery over time. Contains slight energy-restoring properties.]
[Harvest Condition: Requires careful extraction to maintain potency.]
Leon blinked.
He hadn't expected that.