“I just don’t understand why we need him.” Cassia said, frustration sharpening words. She tightened the leather straps on her harvesting satchel with practiced movements. “He will take half of everything we earn. Half. For what? A few shields and warm meals?”

  Kade, who was wrestling with the buckle of his gravity harness, immediately seized the chance to complain.

  “She’s got a point.” He tugged the strap loose with an irritated huff. “I’m all for being prepared, but fifty percent is outrageous.” He glanced toward Tessa with raised brows. “I never thought I’d meet someone greedier than the Cartographers.”

  From behind a stack of supplies, Bran let out a booming laugh.

  “Careful, friend,” the large man said while hoisting a massive reinforced pack onto his shoulders. “The Cartographers might hear you and charge the Assembly extra.”

  Cassia didn’t laugh.

  Breathing out slowly, Tessa folded her arms, her practiced agent’s smile firmly in place.

  “He is expensive,” she admitted calmly, “but would people pay that much if he didn’t have some kind of exceptional ability?”

  Nira and Bran, who were finishing the last checks on their gear, exchanged a quick glance and nodded.

  Subconsciously, everyone turned toward the last member of the team.

  Kael was sitting on a crate near the edge of the platform, calmly oiling the twin curved blades resting across his knees. The athletic man looked up only when he felt the weight of their attention.

  He shrugged.

  “Loot’s nice,” he said casually, sliding one blade back into its sheath, “but I’m here for the levels.”

  He flashed a confident grin.

  “And if the wizard keeps me going long enough to get them, I’m already happy.”

  Cassia clicked her tongue but didn’t argue further.

  In truth, the entire team knew it was too late to change the arrangement anyway. The contract had already been signed, the portal permits processed, and the wizard was already on his way. Backing out now would damage their reputation with the Adventurer’s Guild—and reputation was worth more than one expedition’s profit.

  Still, complaining about it to their agent was practically a team ritual.

  Although adventurers recognized the need for agents—someone had to arrange portal licenses, supply permits, contracts, and transport—few explorers truly respected the profession.

  After all, how could someone who never stepped into a wild world understand what it meant to survive one?

  Fortunately, the tense waiting ended with the arrival of the infamous support wizard.

  A sleek aether cart glided onto the portal bridge platform, its propulsion sigils glowing faintly behind the chassis. The vehicle alone was expensive enough to draw attention, and several nearby adventurers glanced over curiously.

  When the passenger stepped out, the Horizon Striders fell briefly silent.

  The young man didn’t look particularly remarkable at first glance.

  Lean build. Slightly above average height. Dark hair that refused to stay properly combed. Ink stains dotted his fingers, as if he had been writing right until the moment he left home.

  But his eyes stood out.

  Gray.

  Not dull gray, but the kind that seemed faintly reflective under the light of the bridge lanterns. The color was a sign of aether overflow—something occasionally seen in certain magic classes.

  His attire, however, told a completely different story.

  The robe he wore was perfectly tailored, the fabric shifting with unnatural fluidity as he walked—clearly enhanced by aetherwork to allow complete freedom of movement. Fine runic stitching lined the sleeves. Enchanted bracelets rested on his wrists, and an oversized staff crowned with a large violet gem rested easily against his shoulder.

  Hanging from his belt was an exquisitely crafted grimoire, bound in dark leather and secured with silver clasps.

  Nothing about the equipment was cheap.

  Either the wizard had no trouble finding work… or he came from a very wealthy family.

  The young man approached the group and offered a polite bow.

  “Greetings,” he said, voice calm and composed. “I’m Arin Synt. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.”

  For all his outrageous price, the wizard at least possessed impeccable manners.

  The combination of polite speech, expensive equipment, and an unmistakable young-master aura had a briefly paralyzing effect on the team.

  For a few seconds, no one spoke.

  Cassia’s eyes immediately locked onto the enchanted seams of the robe, calculating the cost with silent horror.

  Bran’s brows rose slowly before he whispered, “Guys… I think that book costs more than my house.”

  Nira simply studied him in silence, amber eyes narrowing slightly as she evaluated his posture, movements, and breathing rhythm.

  Kade just adjusted his glasses and avoided looking directly.

  Kael grinned.

  “Well,” the blade dancer said quietly, “at least he looks expensive.”

  Fortunately, Tessa had already met Arin before, so she recovered fast.

  “Hello, Mr. Synt.” She stepped forward smoothly. “I’m glad you could make it on time. We all know how chaotic mornings are on the bridge.”

  Her professional smile returned instantly.

  “Let’s not delay the expedition. Allow me to officially introduce our team—the Horizon Striders.”

  She gestured toward the group one by one.

  “This is Kael Lodin, our vanguard.”

  Kael gave a lazy two-finger salute.

  “Guy who stands in front of monsters,” he said cheerfully. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nira Velez, our scout.”

  Nira nodded once.

  “Orin Kade, our tactical controller.”

  Kade offered a polite bow.

  “Strategic oversight and battlefield control,” he said with academic pride. “I try to prevent everyone from making catastrophic decisions.”

  “Cassia Morne, our extractor and material specialist.”

  Cassia barely looked up from sharpening a delicate harvesting blade.

  “If you damage valuable parts,” she said flatly, “I will deduct it from your pay.”

  Bran burst into laughter beside her.

  “And I’m Bran!” the massive man said with a booming voice. “Carrier, cook, pack mule, and occasional rescuer.”

  He slapped his enormous pack affectionately.

  “Good to have you with us, wizard.”

  Arin nodded politely to each of them.

  “Well met,” he replied simply.

  He clearly knew when efficiency mattered more than conversation.

  The Horizon Striders were almost a textbook example of an exploration team structure recommended by the Adventurer’s Guild.

  A vanguard for direct combat.

  A scout for reconnaissance.

  A controller for tactical field manipulation.

  A carrier to manage supplies and resources.

  And an extractor responsible for harvesting valuable monster materials.

  For serious expeditions, leadership structure also had to be clear.

  Even if unofficial, responsibilities had been agreed upon beforehand. So they held a brief discussion.

  Kade handled strategic decisions—route planning, travel speed, camp timing, and retreat thresholds.

  Cassia temporarily assumed command during combat engagements, since she wouldn't be fighting on the front line and needed control over which monster parts remained intact.

  Arin’s role was… less defined.

  Only he truly understood how best to apply his magic. Unless directly requested, he had full discretion over when and how to act. If he chose not to intervene, however, he was required to explain his reasoning afterward.

  He could already feel a faint sense of alienation from the group.

  But that was normal.

  After all, he had demanded the largest share of the expedition profit.

  If anything, the team was being unusually polite by not openly resenting him.

  Once introductions and the expedition summary were finished, the group moved toward the hangar gate marked with massive steel characters:

  THALASSARA — SILVER TIER AQUATIC WORLD

  A short line of two other exploration teams waited ahead of them.

  Taking advantadge of the delay, Arin quietly began his preparations.

  All skills required aether to function, drawn from the user’s internal reserves. The total amount a person could hold depended on their aether attribute, which normally increased through leveling.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Unfortunately, Arin didn’t have that luxury.

  His class—Low-level Wizard—carried an extreme penalty.

  It completely blocked the progression of his level, attributes, and skill slots. He would remain Level 1 forever. To most people, the idea was absurd.

  Why would anyone choose a class with such a crippling restriction?

  The answer was simple. The unique skill Spellcraft Mastery.

  When selecting classes, the rule was well known: the harsher the limitations, the stronger the compensating skill.

  In Arin’s case, he had traded progression for something far more valuable. The ability to create his own spells.

  The restrictions were brutal. Being stuck at level one meant he could only cast low-level spells. Worse, with his base aether attribute, his personal reserves were pitifully small.

  It was no surprise that nobody else had chosen the class. But for Arin, the decision had been obvious. Magic was the art of making the impossible possible. And if he could create any spell he imagined…

  What did a few restrictions matter?

  His preparation began with his proudest creation.

  “[Aether Wheel].”

  A faint geometric construct formed behind him—a rotating ring of pale blue runes.

  The construct was based on theoretical aether conversion models. The rotating structure “scooped” untethered ambient aether from the surrounding environment, refined it, and fed it into his spellcasting matrix.

  It didn’t eliminate his limitations completely. He still had to provide the initial casting matrix using his own reserves. But it covered roughly ninety-five to ninety-eight percent of the total aether cost.

  The best part?

  The spell lasted an entire hour and took less than a minute to cast. Next came another familiar incantation.

  “[Fast Cast].”

  The spell activated easily thanks to the power of Aether Wheel.

  Pre-built spell circles appeared briefly inside Arin’s mind space, ready to be triggered at a moment’s notice. His current limit allowed him to store ten prepared spell matrices.

  For most wizards, casting delay was a deadly weakness. For Arin, it was an inconvenience.

  Finally, he layered two more spells.

  “[Focus].”

  His thoughts sharpened immediately, distractions fading like mist.

  “[Enhanced Senses].”

  The world grew clearer—footsteps, distant voices, the metallic scent of enchanted equipment, even the faint hum of portal energy vibrating through the bridge.

  Both spells would last roughly an hour. Perfect for his casting rhythm.

  Just as he finished, the guild officer completed the permit inspection. Looking at the shimmering distortion contained inside the portal arch, Arin felt the familiar surge of excitement.

  New worlds always brought new mysteries.

  “Thalassara has a stable portal,” the officer explained while collecting their fees. “The connection should last for another couple of weeks.”

  He handed back their permits.

  “But keep track of time. Check both your primary and secondary watches for defects. If anything goes wrong, return immediately.”

  He stepped aside.

  “Safe travels. And happy run.”

  Since portals connected Alden to other worlds only for a brief window during their dimensional pass, adventurers had to move quickly to harvest as many resources as possible.

  The team thanked the officer and approached the portal in tight formation. Just before stepping through, Arin triggered another stored spell.

  “[Mantle of Protection].”

  A thin invisible layer of reflective aether wrapped around his body. It wasn’t particularly efficient, but it provided basic defense against both physical and magical attacks for a short time.

  Good enough for emergencies.

  Then he stepped through the portal. The moment his foot touched the other side, the ground shifted slightly beneath him. He steadied himself quickly, adjusting his balance. The swaying sensation was disorienting—but expected. They had already been briefed by their agent. Thalassara was a completely aquatic world.

  Fortunately, the Adventurer’s Guild always constructed minimal infrastructure around portal exits. In this case, instead of solid ground, a massive anchored floating platform had been built to support arriving teams.

  Once he fully crossed the portal, Arin was greeted by a flood of brilliant natural light. The brightness forced him to squint for a moment. The briefing had mentioned it, but experiencing it firsthand was still jarring. After a few seconds, his eyes adjusted, and he slowly opened them to observe his new surroundings.

  The first structure he noticed was a large wooden workshop built directly on the floating platform. Half-constructed boats rested on support frames while several workers moved around them, hammering planks and fastening reinforced ribs. Vessels of different sizes lined the dock—small skiffs, medium transport boats, and a few larger craft clearly meant for longer expeditions.

  Then his gaze drifted beyond the workshop. The sight that greeted him was breathtaking.

  Crystal blue water stretched endlessly in every direction, shimmering under the bright sky and reflecting the sunlight like a field of liquid glass. The surface rippled gently, extending to the horizon without a single piece of land in sight.

  Floating flags and cordons marked safe navigation zones near the portal station, forming a loose perimeter around the landing platform. Armed officers stood guard around the gate arch, watching the arriving explorers with disciplined attention.

  Aside from the workshop, the landing deck itself was fairly empty. But when Arin looked around, he noticed several additional floating platforms scattered nearby. Small clusters of wooden buildings stood on them—supply depots, storage houses, and what appeared to be temporary lodging structures for adventurers waiting for their next portal crossing.

  A whole miniature harbor had been constructed here. His wandering gaze eventually settled on the Horizon Striders.

  They were clearly impressed by the view as well, though each of them restrained their excitement in their own way. Experienced explorers rarely allowed themselves to be distracted by a new world for long.

  Cassia was already speaking with one of the stationed officers, gesturing toward the distant waterways. She was probably asking about local creature activity or recent harvesting reports.

  “Everyone alright?” Kade asked.

  There was a faint trace of superiority in his voice, as if he expected someone to struggle with the portal transition. After receiving several nods, he adjusted his coat and declared:

  “Good. Let’s go rent a boat.”

  Arin studied him quietly as the group walked toward the dockmaster station. It didn’t take long for him to reach a conclusion. Kade almost certainly came from an old wealthy family—likely one of the noble houses that had survived the fall of the monarchy.

  People like that were harder to identify than the newly rich merchants who flaunted their wealth openly. But certain things couldn’t be hidden from someone who understood aethercraft.

  The gravity stabilizers integrated into Kade’s gear. The subtle runic engravings woven into his boots.

  Legacy constructs. Artifacts that had probably existed in his family for generations. Arin had spent too much time studying magical equipment to miss them.

  Soon they reached the rental counter.

  A medium exploration boat in excellent condition cost 15 Aether Crystals (AC)—a steep price for such a simple vessel, though that was typical for anything sold inside portal zones.

  After adding 10 AC for supplies, 5 AC for expedition permits, and 2 AC per person for portal entry, their total expenses climbed to a staggering 42 AC.

  Arin did the math automatically.

  Considering his own… admittedly outrageous contract, the team would need to earn at least 242 AC for the expedition to be worthwhile. That could prove difficult. Most good runs averaged between 100 and 120 AC.

  Then again, aquatic worlds were known to produce unusually valuable materials. Perhaps the risk would pay off.

  Once the crystals were handed over, the boat was ready within minutes. Several vessels were already prepared for rent; the delay was simply for registration paperwork. The agreement was straightforward. Any damage to the boat would be charged to the team.

  As for losing the vessel entirely…

  Well. That usually meant the adventurers were dead.

  The boat itself was simple but sturdy. It was a medium-sized wooden craft roughly eight meters long, reinforced with metal ribs along the hull. Two pairs of long oars rested on the sides, designed for strong rowing leverage. The interior had three narrow bench rows that could comfortably seat six people, while a small storage compartment sat near the bow for equipment and supplies.

  The bottom of the hull was coated with a faintly shimmering lacquer—basic aether-treated resin meant to reduce water drag and protect against minor creature bites.

  “Wooow!”

  Kael stepped into the boat and immediately wobbled, windmilling his arms dramatically to maintain balance.

  “I hate boats,” he declared loudly.

  Cassia stepped in next. Her footing proved even worse.

  Her face immediately flushed red as she grabbed the side of the boat in silent embarrassment.

  Bran chuckled as he climbed aboard with surprising ease.

  “Dock work, friends,” the massive man said proudly. “Spent five years loading cargo ships. This is nothing.”

  Nira entered lightly, her balance flawless.

  Kade followed with dignified composure, stepping onto the central bench as if boarding a royal carriage. However, Arin noticed the faint gravitational distortion shimmering around his boots.

  He had used a skill.

  Arin couldn’t really judge him. He had done the exact same thing.

  On boarding, he had cast a small modified version of [Rooted], a stability spell normally designed for earth-attuned solid ground. By slightly adjusting the attunement toward wood, he created a subtle binding effect between his boots and the boat’s planks.

  Kade’s method was easy to guess. As a Gravity Adept, he could manipulate gravitational force within a limited radius.

  A clever solution.

  Soon everyone was seated. Kael and Bran naturally took the oars and began rowing once the boat was released from the dock. Meanwhile, Nira, Kade, and Cassia leaned over a scroll map spread across the middle bench. The parchment looked heavily used, filled with notes and markings clearly added during previous planning sessions.

  “We are here.” Nira pointed to a marked circle on the map. “First Lake.”

  Her finger traced a thin line northward.

  “We follow the Northern Branch River downstream until we reach Setriant Falls.”

  She tapped the location.

  “That’s our first target.”

  Cassia nodded immediately.

  “Waterfall zones are ideal for harvesting aquatic materials,” she said. “High oxygen, strong currents, and nutrient concentration.”

  Kade added thoughtfully, “Also good ambush territory for predators.”

  Meanwhile, the two rowers worked almost in perfect rhythm as they guided the boat past the safety cordons. Arin appeared to be quietly enjoying the scenery.

  In reality, he was analyzing the surrounding aether flows using a modified version of [Aetheric Lenses]. The spell formed a thin translucent film over his eyes, allowing him to perceive subtle interactions between light and ambient aether. His adaptation added detection parameters specifically tuned to water-attuned aether. Aquatic environments had very distinctive energetic signatures. Fortunately, modifying the spell had been fairly easy.

  Soon they passed beyond the cordoned area and entered the open waters of the vast lake. Arin noticed something immediately. The air here felt incredibly fresh.

  Clean.

  Invigorating.

  Breathing was effortless.

  That was very different from his previous, and only, experience in an aquatic world, where the atmosphere had been so humid it felt almost suffocating.

  After a few minutes, when they were far enough from the safety area and prying eyes, he spoke up.

  “Guys,” he said casually, “should I cast something to push the boat faster?”

  The Striders exchanged brief glances.

  Kael answered first.

  “If it’s not difficult,” he said openly. “Won’t it drain your reserves?”

  There was no suspicion in his voice—just honest curiosity.

  Arin smiled.

  “Not at all.”

  With their approval, he lifted his staff. The gesture was mostly theatrical.

  Two spell matrices formed in quick succession. The first coated the hull of the boat in a thin layer of water-attuned aether, drastically reducing friction between the vessel and the surrounding water.

  It was essentially a modified version of an old experiment he had conducted while developing a swimming assistance spell—[Water Skin]. Since the modification was minor, he never bothered giving it a new name.

  The second spell was more interesting.

  Creating a simple breeze was trivial. But sustaining the effect without constant casting required creativity.

  Arin solved the problem by forming a circular atmospheric manipulation field around the boat. The spell altered air pressure high above them, generating a downward wind current that funneled directly into the stern.

  After a brief moment of thought, he named the design [Gale Descent].

  Perhaps a bit excessive. But excellent practice.

  The elegant display of spellcraft left the Striders momentarily stunned.

  Kael stared openly. Bran’s eyebrows slowly climbed higher. Cassia blinked several times as she tried to follow the layered spell formation. Even Kade looked genuinely impressed. Nira was the only one who reacted calmly, though her eyes sharpened with new interest.

  Then the boat surged forward.

  Hard.

  “Whoa—!”

  Kael nearly lost his grip on the oar.

  Bran burst out laughing as the boat accelerated across the lake like a launched arrow.

  The two men quickly stopped rowing—they couldn’t possibly match that speed.

  A moment later they realized a new problem.

  Steering.

  Arin calmly pointed at the oars.

  “Just dip them lightly into the water,” he suggested. “Use the drag to turn.”

  It worked perfectly.

  By creating a bit of resistance, the rowers could easily control the boat’s direction. With that solved, the vessel cut across the lake at remarkable speed.

  The team exchanged approving glances. This alone didn’t justify Arin’s enormous contract fee. But it was certainly a good start. A few minutes later, a new problem appeared.

  Cassia was turning pale.

  The harvester clung to the side of the boat, clearly fighting off nausea.

  “I’m… fine,” she muttered weakly.

  She was not fine.

  Arin immediately offered assistance.

  “Would you like a quick [Minor Health Restoration]?”

  She nodded miserably.

  The spell activated… but the results were disappointing.

  Cassia still looked awful.

  Arin frowned thoughtfully.

  “Hmm… interesting.”

  He quickly switched strategies.

  “Let’s try [Vitality Boost].”

  A warm pulse of energy spread through Cassia’s body.

  Almost a minute later, her color returned.

  She blinked in surprise.

  “…That worked.”

  Arin nodded with satisfaction.

  Healing magic had been one of his earliest research subjects due to its obvious importance. After extensive testing, he had developed four primary variants.

  [Vitality Boost] provided raw energy, allowing the body to correct minor problems naturally.

  [Health Restoration] worked more cooperatively with the body to resolve underlying conditions.

  [Heal] was an aggressive emergency spell meant to close dangerous wounds immediately.

  And [Regeneration] was a slow, complex design capable of restoring damaged or missing body parts.

  Each had its own proper usage.

  Healing magic was powerful—but careless use could easily harm the patient.

  Just as the group approached the entrance to the Northern Branch River, Arin noticed something unusual. He was still observing the lake through [Aetheric Lenses].

  Deep beneath the water, a dense concentration of aether was moving toward them.

  Fast.

  Too fast.

  His eyes widened slightly.

  “Something’s coming from below—”

  The warning was cut short.

  The aether signature suddenly exploded forward. It would reach them in seconds.

  Without asking permission, Arin raised his staff. This time the gesture wasn’t theatrical.

  The violet gem flared as he triggered a fast-cast defensive spell.

  “[Void Barrier].”

  A bubble of swirling aether erupted from the staff and expanded around the boat.

  The energy condensed into a thin layer of absolute blackness—an artificial pocket of null space separating the interior of the barrier from the outside world.

  Then something slammed into it.

  Hard.

  The entire barrier shook violently as the water beneath them erupted upward.