Morning mist still clung to the outer forests beyond Magix.
Tall trees stretched toward the sky, their leaves filtering sunlight into shifting patterns across the forest floor. Normally the woods were peaceful, a natural boundary between the magical city and the wilderness beyond.
Today, the atmosphere felt different.
Unstable.
A faint ripple of magic pulsed through the air like distant thunder.
Five figures moved carefully between the trees.
"We should've brought jackets," Stella complained, brushing a branch out of her way.
"It's not even cold," Tecna replied calmly, checking a glowing scanner in her hand.
"It is slightly below the optimal comfort range," Stella insisted.
Ahead of them, Bloom slowed her pace.
"Tecna, are you sure the signal is coming from here?"
Tecna nodded.
"My readings detected repeated magical fluctuations beneath this section of forest."
Beside them walked the quiet figure they had brought along.
The archer.
Unlike the others, he moved silently.
His eyes scanned the surrounding trees with practiced awareness.
He wasn't looking for magic.
He was looking for threats.
Flora noticed the difference immediately.
"You're very cautious," Flora said softly.
"…Habit."
Bloom glanced at him.
"You think someone else is already here?"
Before he could answer—
A voice echoed through the trees.
"Well well."
The group immediately turned.
Standing on a fallen stone arch ahead of them were three familiar figures.
Icy, Darcy, and Stormy.
The Trix.
Stormy grinned.
"Looks like the fairies had the same idea."
Bloom stepped forward.
"What are you doing here?"
Icy crossed her arms.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"We're looking for the sword."
Stella blinked.
"You mean Durendal?"
Darcy smiled.
"Yes."
"And we'd appreciate it if you stayed out of our way."
Bloom shook her head.
"That's not happening."
Stormy laughed.
"Good."
"Because I was hoping for a fight."
Magic exploded into motion.
Storm clouds formed instantly above the clearing as Stormy unleashed a bolt of lightning.
Flora raised a barrier of vines that intercepted the strike.
Stella launched a burst of solar light toward the witches.
The forest clearing erupted into chaos.
Meanwhile—
The archer stood still.
His attention wasn't on the Trix.
Instead he felt it.
A familiar presence.
Cold.
Precise.
Magecraft.
The Caster class.
Slowly, he turned his head toward the deeper forest.
Hidden beyond the battlefield—
Another figure watched from the shadows.
Her eyes met his.
Lust.
For a moment the noise of the battle faded.
Neither of them moved.
Then Lust smiled faintly.
"So you're here too."
The archer didn't respond.
But his mind had already reached the same conclusion she had.
Durendal was real.
Lust stepped slightly forward, the faint outline of magical sigils forming briefly around her hand—remnants of the power granted by the Caster Class Card.
"You already know what this means," she said quietly.
"If the legend is true…"
Her gaze shifted toward the earth beneath the forest.
"…that sword can open a path between worlds."
The wind rustled through the trees.
For the first time since arriving in this world—
The archer spoke.
"…Then we will both reach it."
Lust tilted her head slightly.
"Perhaps."
She turned away.
The sigils faded.
And a moment later she vanished into the forest.
By the time Bloom looked toward the trees again—
The watcher was gone.
But the race for Durendal had officially begun.