Wulf hadn't travelled very far west before, but he was pretty sure the land didn't always look like this.

Scars etched through the earth where demon spheres had crashed down to the surface, and footprints marred deep lakes. The spheres themselves were either lodged in the sides of hills, or made hills of their own.

Fiends' bodies lay scattered around, their fluids leeching into vineyards and grain fields. Destroyed Oroniths made monuments all across the rolling landscape, but towers of scaffolding covered them, and crews of scavenger Artificers scampered all over their stone bodies, cutting off anything useful.

As if the gray skies weren't bad enough, there was almost always a column of smoke somewhere, either from a fiend's corpse or the remains of a battle.

The road curved away from Centralis City at first, and they followed it inland. According to Irmond, who was navigating for them, the road would angle back to the coast after a few days, and they'd arrive at the Spiritmongers' territory after a few more days. Give or take. Irmond's estimations of travel time weren't the best.

Whenever they passed a city, it usually had some form of wall around it. None as large or as effective as the wall in Centralis City, but it was better than nothing. Because of the walls, there were many hills and valleys with steep, terraced walls—where the necessary stone had been mined out of makeshift quarries.

Wulf didn't make Wraith walk on the road. It wasn't designed for Oroniths, and during the day, the wagon traffic was still intense. Wagons full of barrels and supplies trundled to and from cities and farming hamlets.

And of course, he couldn't forget the farms themselves. Not all of them were destroyed, not yet. Although the crops were suffering—the vineyards, wheat and grain fields, and olive tree plantations were all some shade of brown or yellow, even early in the summer—there was enough land.

Some farmers had set up massive lamps, almost like the one Wulf stored in his pendant. It kept the plants alive, though they'd need more to maintain their food production throughout the year.

For the moment, though, it was the best they could do. Once they defeated the demons, there'd be more spare resources to devote toward food production instead of just keeping themselves alive.

"Have you ever been to the Far West?" Wulf asked Kalee. As far as he knew, the Scorchlands wrapped around the equator, but they also spread north and south past the Bay of Centralis. That massive patch of Scorchland was the divider between the 'West' of Centralis and the 'Far West.'

"I haven't," she replied. "But Istalis will always be my home. And…from what I've heard from my Uncle, there really isn't much reason to go back. Big cities, sure, but they're very crowded, and there's a smog that lingers over almost everything. I think I know why my ancestors wanted to move to Istalis."

Wulf nodded, forgetting for a moment that his link with Wraith was active, and the Oronith nodded as well.

"They're not all pangolin hybrids in the Far West, are they?" Irmond asked.

"You've seen humans from the Far West," Seith chided. "How about the guys in the hangar bay next to us?"

"Ah, right, them…" Irmond laughed nervously. "Wasn't really thinking about that."

"There are many creatures in the Far West," Kalee said. "And Pangians are just one race among many."

The days went by quickly. Wulf tried to spend as little time away from civilization as he could, because even as strong as they were, he didn't want to get caught out in the wilds if there was a Fiend attack. He walked quickly, often with a half-jogging spring in his step, just so he wouldn't have to spend much time out in the open.

When they drew closer to the coast, he was almost never out of sight of civilization. They was always a small port town or a village of some sort, and he watched his steps carefully, making sure he didn't crush any small roadside settlements.

Most small settlements put up tall wooden spars painted with vibrant colours, just in case, and painted swathes of clashing blue paint on their red brick roofs. It made it much easier for a wandering Oronith to see them and avoid them.

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Every night, they stopped to camp, and for Wulf to replenish his mana supplies. He relied on the Star Hearts still, because, while he couldn't draw the mana into his main core and use it to advance, he could put it in his storage core to refill it. It meant they could move faster during the day.

Still, they stayed off the ground. Though the colossal fiends were easy to deal with during demon attacks, plenty of smaller demons made it through the defences, and the countryside was infested with them now.

They made campfires on Wraith's shoulder and camped in the cockpit or on top of its head, but even with the sky dimmed, it was quite warm and humid, and they didn't need tents. Even the fires were just for warm meals.

On the third day after reaching the coast, they arrived.

Wulf wasn't sure what to look for at first, but when he saw it, he knew. A small border wall wrapped around the edge of the territory, running right up to the sandy beaches and the private docks. An inlet held boats, both transports for guests and yachts for those who lived here. Wooden trellis watchtowers looked out over the surrounding landscape, guards patrolled the top of the wall, wearing orange uniforms. Some of them wore turbans, much like the Orichalcum Wulf has seen.

That man must've been the head of the Spiritmongers Guild.

Inside the walls, potted suntrees illuminated swathes of well-kept grass, and large decorative castles perched along the shore, slightly removed from the gentle sandy beaches. At the very center of it all was an enormous cobblestone tower. Its upper spire was almost twice as tall as Wraith, and it widened toward the base in steps, with offshoots reaching out in all four cardinal directions.

A flag fluttered at the very top of the tower—orange with the outline of a fish's head—signifying the Spiritmongers Guild.

"So…what's the plan?" Irmond asked. "We need into the tower, right?"

"Security is probably pretty tight, if they're storing powerful spirits in there," Kalee remarked.

"That's why we're just going to be guests at the resort. We could never pose as the perfect upper echelon that'd be able to afford spirits from there, anyway. We don't have nearly enough training." He knelt down, making Wraith less of an eyesore, but it was early evening, and he didn't expect too many people were looking for a giant stone statue. "First things first, we need a place to put Wraith. Then we'll approach on foot, using the booking Athllas made for us, and find our way to an inn on the shore."

"How does that help us break into a place like that?" Seith asked.

"We can't just walk in and wing it," Wulf replied. "We need a few days to scout around before we break in and steal some spirits."

"Once we have the Spiritmarks, won't that put a massive target on our backs?" Irmond asked. "Like, they'll hunt us at the Academy, and all that."

"It's a good thing that most people can and do hide their marks," Wulf replied. "We'll figure out how to do that before we get back, and no one will know it was us."

"Sounds like a workable plan," Kalee remarked.

They turned, and Wulf marched back along the coast until he found a tree-covered hill. He knelt down, putting Wraith lower to the ground, then stretched out its arm to make it easy to climb up in case they needed to run back to the Oronith quickly.

The forest didn't even come close to hiding Wraith, but as long as they weren't gone too long, the scavengers wouldn't assume it was dead and wouldn't start taking it apart.

Then, once they'd gathered up their most important equipment, they walked back along the road. "You brought enough changes of clothes for us, right?" Wulf asked Irmond. "And something that isn't an academy uniform?"

"Just like you asked," he replied. "It's not exactly going to blend in here though."

Wulf shrugged. "It doesn't have to—I'm sure there are shops here where we can find clothes the locals wear. It just has to get us through the front gate."

Halfway to the outer wall of the guild territory, they stopped and ducked off the path. They changed out of their academy uniforms into slightly more formal wear. Wulf donned the embroidered shirt Irmond had let him borrow a few times before, Kalee took a light tunic and skirt, Irmond with a short-sleeved tunic, and Seith with a light jacket that looked slightly out of place given the temperature. But it was the best they could do.

Eventually, the road branched. One route led to the gate of the guild territory, and another off into the countryside. When they arrived, it was dark, but the guardsmen—Iron-tier Ascendants—kept watch.

"Guests?" one of the guards asked.

"We have a reservation," Wulf said. "A messenger Thrustwing should have arrived a few days ago…"

"For the Stauric family?" one of the guards asked. "You're a day late, and certainly not a family."

"The booking was under my name only," Wulf replied. "But, yes I am the youngest son of the Staurics."

"Never heard of them," the first guard remarked.

"They paid," said the second guard. "Let them through."

They opened up the portcullis, and Wulf and the others stepped inside.

"Your booking is at the Imperial Outlook," one of the guards said. "Have a pleasant stay."

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