Jack watched. He and Reina perched on a natural rock outcrop. Shrouded by the dense pine forest. Their camp, complete with its array of convenient camping gear, was a comfortable distance away.
The expedition mbers were a re cluster of activity across the vast expanse of Lake Trishade. From their vantage point, they were nothing more than ants.
However, under the magnification of their steamrune binoculars, Jack and Reina could observe them clearly.
The expedition camp was a hive of activity. Tents went up. Sturdier and more complex than the common ones. A central command tent. Smaller sleeping quarters. A specialized gear tent.
Heavy-duty logistic vehicles were parked neatly. Standard procedure. Efficient. Professional. Jack noted the details. These weren't amateurs.
He focused his binoculars on the individuals. Dr. Crafton directed operations with a focused intensity. Chloe Chase checked equipnt in agile and keen manners. Leon Drake moved with an almost disciplined grace. Organizing supplies.
The Laycards, Tom and Jeanne, were conversing animatedly with Dr. Paul Kingsley, who seed particularly excited. Baroness Erald Artheim, elegant even in practical expedition gear, supervised the setup of diving equipnt.
The three additional logistic mbers were large and silent. They moved with an air of trained competence. They were more than simple porters.
Jack guessed they were ex-military or specialized security. Transcendent combatants, likely. Given the archeologists were also combatants, it made sense.
The first few days were monotonous observation for Jack and Reina. The expedition's routine was solidified. Mornings were for preparation and planning. Afternoons for exploration. Evenings for analysis and rest.
They started with sonar readings. Mapping the lakebed. Jack watched the displays on their portable screens via his scope. Interpreting the patterns.
Their tools and instrunts didn't actually fit with the era. The world should still be in Industrial Revolution Era. Steam machineries. But, so of the devices they used were even more advanced than those of the modern era.
Jack sighed internally. One could not underestimate the world where runes and magic could overwrite mundane scientific rules.
Soon, the sonar readings showed the result. The temple was there, deeply subrged, surprisingly intact.
Then ca the dives. Elaborate suits. Arcane lights. And specialized tools. One by one the archeologists descended. Then in pairs. And finally, in three-man team.
Dr. Crafton. Dr. Kingsley. Chloe. Leon. The Laycards couple. And the Baroness. They cycled through. Taking turns. The logistic mbers remained topside. Guarding the camp. Maintaining communications. And assisting with equipnt.
Jack saw them entering the temple. The stone structure was massive underwater. Dark and silent. His vision was enhanced by the steamrune scope. It cut through the water's murk with supernatural clarity.
He watched as they explored. Docunting hieroglyphs. Collecting samples. Setting up sensors. They were careful. thodical. No rash moves.
"They're thorough." Reina comnted. Lowering her scope for a mont. "More so than I expected after those Tideless Island incidents."
"Experience. Or good preparation." Jack replied. Still observing Kingsley. The man seed particularly drawn to a specific section of the temple. A central chamber. "Kingsley is poking around too much. That's usually the trigger."
"The trigger for what?" Reina asked. A hint of curiosity in her voice.
"Chaos. Trouble. Calamity." Jack stated bluntly. He knew the pattern. Too curious protagonists found sothing. Sothing ancient. Sothing dangerous. And then, bad things were activated.
Days changed. The sun rose and set. The lake remained placid. The air was cool. The nights were crisp. Jack and Reina maintained their vigilance. It was a test of patience. But not for long.
On the fourth full day of underwater exploration, it happened. Mid-afternoon. The sun was high. Baking the lake.
A sudden, intense beam of light erupted from the deepest part of the lake. Not just a reflection. It was a focused, raw column of energy.
It pierced the black depths. Shot through the water. Pierced the lake surface. And lanced directly into the sky. It was pristine white. Pulsing with an unnatural glow. The air humd. The ground vibrated.
"There it is, Love." Jack stated. His voice was flat. He had expected it. Anticipation was a dull ache. Now it was replaced by grim certainty.
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Reina gasped. Her scope was nearly falling. "By the Holy Goat... What the hell was that?"
Jack adjusted his scope. Zooming in on the lake surface. Two figures were breaking the water, thrashing. Leon Drake. Tom Laycard.
They were swimming with desperate urgency towards the bank. Not looking back. Their faces were contorted in grim determination. Tinged with fear.
Behind them, the water churned violently. Dark shapes erged. Not fish. Bipedal. Green-skinned. But pale, rotting, and dead looking. With wide, gaping mouths. And webbed hands. Their eyes glowed with a dull, malevolent light. Zombie Frog-n.
They moved with a disturbing, jerky speed. Closing in on Leon and Tom. There were dozens, probably more. They looked like grotesque parodies of amphibious humanoids. Their skin was rotting in places. Bones visible through tears.
"Kingsley." Jack muttered. "It had to be him. Too eager."
Leon and Tom reached the bank. Scrambling out of the water. Gasping for air. They were soaked. Shivering. But they imdiately summoned their grimoires.
The rest of the expedition was already reacting. They joined the two and were already prepared for combat.
The Zombie Frog-n sward from the lake. Their croaking cries were guttural. Chilling. They were slower on land. But they were relentless.
The expedition mbers t them head-on. Jack watched. Captivated. These people weren't re academics. All were Mystic Scholars. And clearly, highly capable ones.
Each held a grimoire. Its pages were glowing faintly. Casting a soft, arcane light on their faces. They mumbled incantation. And magic spells flew from their surrounding.
Chloe Chase conjured whips of pure water energy that cracked and snared the frog-n. Flinging them back into the water.
Dr. Crafton, despite his age, moved with surprising agility. His grimoire open to pages that unleashed bursts of arcane fire. Charring the aquatic monsters.
Tom Laycard didn't stand in place. Instead, he kept moving and launched multiple wind arrows. Striking the weak points of the enemy.
Jeanne Laycard wove intricate barriers of force. Deflecting claws and bites. Her face was a mask of determined concentration.
Even the three logistic mbers proved their worth. Their grimoires glowed and they spitted bolts of force and chilling gusts of wind. Things that slowed the creatures.
Leon Drake and Baroness Artheim were on a different level though. They stood out. Even among the excellent transcendent combatants like their team mates.
Leon wasn't just a Mystic Scholar. He was also a Supernatural Sorcerer. His sorcery instantly encased him in a shimring, draconic armor. It humd with power. Deflecting enemy's blows that would have pulped lesser n.
He was a living bulwark. A vanguard. He was unmovable. His grimoire was held firmly in one arm as he unleashed concussive blasts from his free hand. Sending frog-n reeling.
Baroness Artheim was equally formidable. As she also possessed Supernatural Sorcery. Without any tool or incantation, two crackling figures of pure lightning solidified beside her. Taking the form of humanoid sentinels.
They moved with blinding speed. Striking the frog-n with arcs of electricity that fried their reanimated flesh. Leaving smoking craters in their wake.
Her grimoire spells were also precise, powerful, and utterly devastating. She was a whirlwind of controlled chaos. And her lightning constructs were acting as extensions of her will.
"They're good." Reina acknowledged. A hint of admiration was in her voice. "Very good. They won't be overwheld easily."
"True." Jack agreed. But soon his gaze was fixed elsewhere.
A new, unsettling phenonon was occurring. From the exact spot where the light beam had erupted. A dark stain began to spread across the lake. Insidious and swift. It bled outwards. Like ink dropped into clear water.
It consud the dark blue depths. Turning the entire surface of Lake Trishade into an inky, featureless void. The water itself seed to thicken. Into a malevolent tar that reflected nothing.
And then, the impossible happened.
The temple. The ancient structure that had rested at the bottom of the lake for centuries, perhaps millennia, began to rise. Slowly. Majestically. It erged from the black water.
It was enormous. A multi-tiered pyramid. Made of dark, weathered stone. Covered in intricate, alien hieroglyphs.
It lifted. Shedding sheets of the inky water. Until it was suspended in the air. A few ters above the newly blackened lake surface. It hung there. Defying gravity. A dark monunt against the now-ominous sky.
"Well, that's not good." Jack said flatly. The words were an understatent.
Reina lowered her binoculars entirely. Her eyes were wide. Staring at the floating temple with a mixture of awe and dawning horror. Her pupils moved. Tracing the carved symbols she could now see. Even from the distance.
"Dear... I know those glyphs." She breathed. Her voice was barely a whisper. Her usual self-control wavered.
Jack turned to her. Raising an eyebrow. "Oh? Your old organization's knowledge?"
Reina nodded. Her eyes were still fixed on the temple. "Yes. Back when I was... Queen Mirage. We searched for these. This is an Ink Dragon Temple."
Jack waited. Letting her collect herself. This should be important. Reina rarely showed such clear distress.
"There are seven of them." She continued. Her voice gaining strength. Though it was still laced with urgency. "These temples were built to bury parts of the Ink Dragon. A demonic creature. It was said to have opposed the Five Nagaean Deities. An ancient war, long before recorded history."
"Opposed? So, a rival god, or sothing worse?" Jack prompted. He knew the five Nagaean Deities. Cloudfather, Webmother, Rainsister, Bonebrother, and Breezechild.
"Worse." Reina confird. "The legends say the Ink Dragon was an evil creature that tried to destroy the world. It was immortal. Indestructible. The deities fought it, but they couldn't kill it. So, they mutilated it. Tore it into seven pieces. And then sealed each piece within one of these hidden temples, scattered across the continent. This... this must be one of them."
She turned back to Jack. "Dear, the Night Salvation believed that if all seven pieces were reunited, the Ink Dragon could be reborn. It would unleash an era of darkness, a new genesis of chaos."
"Even they didn't dare to activate it." She continued. "They sought to find them, and reunite them. But their focus regarding this Ink Dragon now was to find a way to control it first."
Jack looked from Reina to the floating temple. Then back to the struggling expedition. The Zombie Frog-n, though still nurous, seed secondary now. A re symptom. The true problem was floating above the lake.
"So..." Jack summarized. "They have just potentially released a piece of an immortal, demonic, world-ending creature."
Reina nodded grimly. "Very likely. They are in unimaginable trouble, Dear. And now... so are we."
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