The flicker of magical lamps cast warm pools of light across the sprawling map-covered table, deep inside the Guild's record chamber. The windows were dark now, the last glow of day long faded. Outside, the city quieted into its evening rhythm, but inside, Darius worked tirelessly, buried in scrolls, torn ledgers, and fragments of encoded parchment.
A mug of untouched tea had long gone cold by his elbow. His coat was folded over the back of a chair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he ran his finger for the third time across a particular line of symbols.
"S12-B3, A7-C1… then it skips to F1 twice… no names, only letters and numbers."
At first glance, the document seemed like another logistics sheet. But the symbols didn't match any traditional merchant routes or tax registries.
His brow furrowed as he grabbed a ledger from the edge of the desk and flipped to an old shipping manifest the Guild had archived.
"Standard merchant codes always list the city initials, then the caravan code. But here…" He tapped the parchment. "It's grid-based… like battle maps."
He moved to the wide regional map stretched across the far table. Years ago, when the Guild first coordinated with Nadalia's royal scouts, they had mapped the kingdom and its borderlands using a grid overlay, labeling sectors with letter-number pairs.
A realization struck him.
"Wait… what if this isn't a route manifest but a drop coordinate system?"
He reached for a charcoal stick and began plotting.
A7… S12… C1… F1… B3…
He marked each on the grid, one after another. Several were out of nation, inside the ocean or heavily patrolled—unlikely for secret slave movement. But two stood out. His eyes narrowed.
One was near the outer border of Nadalia, just past the main patrol zones, inland from the bustling port city of Marina. Hidden in the surrounding overgrowth, it was out of reach from watchtowers.
The other? His fingers froze.
Northeast of the capital, bordering a sparse forest village that had been nearly abandoned a decade ago due to land instability and forest beasts. Rarely did scouts or merchants even pass that area anymore.
"Two quiet, remote zones… one near a port, the other in forested borderlands," he murmured. "No wonder they avoided detection."
He reached for a clean sheet of parchment and began jotting down details, scribbling notes beside each location.
Port Route: Coordinates: Grid B3-F1
Forest Route: Coordinates: A7-C1
Status: Marked as delivery zones. Possibly tied to the recent disappearances. Confirm with Vel.
He leaned back, staring at the ink and newly traced paths.
"They've been moving through these paths right under our noses," he muttered. "Those numbers weren't random—they were coordinates, but encoded in a way that didn't follow any standard mapping system."
Now it all made sense. With heart pounding and the candle burning low, Darius bundled the documents, grabbed a pin to mark the map officially, and prepared to deliver the findings to Vel.
Meanwhile, as night deepened, the scene shifted to the army stronghold.
Vel leaned against the stone rail of the outer wall, eyes fixed on the darkening sky. It was peaceful here. A cluster of birds swept across the horizon, wings cutting the air in perfect synchronicity.
"Birds are already migrating," came a voice from behind.
Vel turned slightly to see General Vhan approaching, wiping his hands with a cloth, the scent of rust and sweat still clinging to his coat.
"They move to cooler lands this time of year," Vhan said, joining him at the rail. "Thousands of miles. And yet they return like clockwork when the seasons shift."
Vel watched them disappear into the clouds. "Wish humans could come back from cold places."
The general gave a half-smile, then his expression turned grim.
"One of them talked—the bandit leader." Vhan's voice lowered. "Said they didn't know who was receiving the cargo. Only that their job was to deliver the captives near the eastern swamp region of Eldora. Remote. Uninhabited for years due to terrain."
Vel's gaze sharpened. "East of Eldora… the swamp basin. That area is infested by swamp monsters."
"Exactly," Vhan nodded. "He said they'd leave them bound and unconscious at a marker stone. Next day, the people would be gone."
"Sounds like a lab or underground transport point," Vel muttered.
"Very likely," Vhan agreed.
Vel stood upright and turned toward the gate. "Thanks for getting the answer."
The general raised a brow. "You sure you don't want a full squad when you head that way?"
Vel paused at the gate. "Not yet. We'll scout it first. But if the time comes for a raid…"
"You'll have it," Vhan interrupted, his tone resolute. "The Guild's done plenty for the realm. If you call, we'll answer."
Vel gave a faint nod before walking off into the night, boots tapping lightly against the cobblestones.
Behind him, General Vhan remained at the railing, watching the skies once more—where birds had vanished, and shadows stretched long over the sleeping city.