I am just an NPC ,but I rewrite the story-Chapter 46 - []

"Just another Tuesday," I muttered, sprinting down the cobblestones as a jet of fire turned the ivy-covered wall behind us into a sheet of ash.

"It is Wednesday!" Tybalt shrieked from the driver’s seat of the wagon, which was currently careening around the corner on two wheels. "And I don’t work on Wednesdays! It’s proofing day!"

"Drive, Ty!" I yelled, throwing myself into the back of the wagon. Kaelen vaulted in after me, his heavy boots shaking the floorboards. Lysandra, displaying the kind of acrobatic grace that annoyed me on a spiritual level, landed softly next to Red, who was already nocking an arrow into a shortbow she’d seemingly pulled out of thin air.

"Contact rear!" Red shouted. "Two bogeys. Big ones. Ugly ones."

I looked back. The "Exotics" from Vance’s collection weren’t cute little drakes. They were full-grown Wyverns—leathery, bipedal dragons with venomous stingers on their tails and mouths full of napalm. They screeched, diving from the roof of the estate, their wings blotting out the gas lamps of the High Quarter.

"They’re gaining!" Cian yelled, clutching the side of the wagon with one hand and his hat with the other. "And my calculations suggest that if they breathe fire on this canvas roof, we will become a very fast-moving oven!"

"Kaelen!" I barked. "Shields!"

Kaelen didn’t have a shield. He had a two-handed sword. But he improvised. He grabbed a heavy lid from a barrel of salted pork (Tybalt really loved barrels) and braced himself at the rear opening.

Lysandra stepped up beside him. She did have a shield—her kite shield with the royal crest scratched off. She slammed it down, locking arms with Kaelen.

WHOOSH.

A stream of fire engulfed the back of the wagon. The heat was intense, singing the hair on my arms even from five feet away. Kaelen grunted, the barrel lid glowing cherry-red instantly. Lysandra’s holy aura flared, a blue barrier shimmering over her shield to disperse the heat.

"Hold the line!" Lysandra shouted over the roar of the flames.

"I’m holding!" Kaelen growled. "But the wood is smoking!"

"Tybalt, get us to the narrow streets!" I yelled toward the front. "They can’t fly in the alleyways!"

"I’m trying!" Tybalt screamed, whipping the horses. "But the horses are terrified! They don’t like dragons!"

The wagon skidded onto the main thoroughfare of the High Quarter. It was a wide, paved avenue lined with expensive boutiques and statues of people who probably didn’t pay their taxes. Perfect for flying monsters. Terrible for us.

One of the Wyverns swooped low, its talons scraping the roof of a jewelry store. It snapped its jaws at the horses.

"Red, suppressive fire!" I ordered.

"On it!" Red leaned out the back, aiming high. She didn’t aim for the scales; she aimed for the eyes.

Thwip. Thwip.

Two arrows flew. The Wyvern jerked its head back, dodging the shots. It roared in frustration, banking hard to avoid crashing into a clock tower.

"They’re herding us," I realized, watching the second Wyvern flank us on the left. "They want to push us toward the cliff edge."

I looked at the map in my head. The High Quarter ended in a sheer drop down to the harbor. If they cornered us there, we were done.

"We need to turn," I said. "Cian, look at the map! Is there a way down to the Market District?"

Cian fumbled with a scroll map, his glasses sliding down his nose. "There’s a service ramp! Two blocks ahead, sharp right! It cuts through the Aqueduct!"

"Tybalt! Right turn! Two blocks!" I relayed the order.

"I can’t turn that sharp!" Tybalt yelled. "We’ll flip!"

"Do it anyway!" I shouted.

"Ren," Kaelen said, his voice tight. "We have a problem."

I looked back. The second Wyvern wasn’t breathing fire. It was hovering directly above us, its tail curling underneath its body. The stinger dripped with neon-green venom.

"It’s going to spike the wagon," Kaelen said. "If that hits the wheel, the acid will dissolve the axle."

I looked around the wagon. We had flour. We had pork. We had... a bag of sand I hadn’t used yet.

"Cian," I said. "Do you have any Wind spells left in that scroll?"

"One," Cian said. "Maybe two if I write small."

"Save it for the turn," I said. "Kaelen, throw something at it."

"Throw what?"

"I don’t know! A barrel!"

Kaelen grabbed the barrel of Salted Pork. (Red let out a small noise of protest). He hefted it over his head. His muscles bulged under his leather coat.

"Eat this," Kaelen grunted.

He launched the barrel. It flew upward, spinning end over end.

The Wyvern saw the projectile. It swiped with its claws, shattering the wood.

Explosion of meat.

Hundreds of pounds of salted pork and rock salt rained down on the Wyvern. The salt got in its eyes. The meat hit its wings. It shrieked, blinded and confused, and veered off course, crashing into the tiled roof of a silk merchant’s villa.

"Direct hit!" Red cheered. "But you owe me a ham, Wolf."

"Turn coming up!" Tybalt screamed.

The service ramp was ahead. It was a steep, narrow cobblestone path leading down under the massive stone arches of the city’s aqueduct.

"Cian! Now!" I yelled. "Push the wagon!"

Cian unrolled his scroll. He scribbled frantically.

GUST.

He pointed the scroll at the side of the wagon, opposite the turn.

A blast of wind hit us just as Tybalt yanked the reins. The wagon tilted onto two wheels, teetering dangerously. For a second, I thought we were going over. Gravity fought against centrifugal force.

Then, Cian’s wind spell pushed us back down.

SLAM.

The wheels hit the stones. We drifted around the corner, sparks flying from the rims, and shot down the ramp into the darkness of the aqueduct underpass.

The Wyvern’s roar faded behind us. The stone arches blocked their flight path.

"We’re clear!" Tybalt laughed hysterically. "I’m a racing driver! Look at me go!"

"Eyes on the road, speed demon," I said, slumping back against the sideboard. My heart was hammering a rhythm that matched the galloping hooves.

I checked my pocket. The Black Ledger was still there.

"Okay," I said, looking at the team. "That was the easy part."

"Easy?" Lysandra asked, wiping soot from her forehead. "We just fought dragons in a moving vehicle."

"That was physical," I said. "Now we have to deal with politics. And Gondar."

We emerged from the ramp into the Market District. It was quieter here, the streets wider. The Council Hall stood at the center of the district—a massive domed building made of white marble, currently lit up by magical floodlights.

"There it is," I said. "The finish line."

"We stop at the bottom of the steps," I instructed Tybalt. "We run up. We deliver the book to Lady Sterling. She’s the Head of the Council."

"And then?" Kaelen asked.

"And then we hope she believes us before Marek catches up."

The wagon rumbled into the square.

But the square wasn’t empty.

Blocking the road to the Council Hall was a wall of gold.

The Golden Lions.

Twenty adventurers in gilded armor stood in a phalanx formation. Behind them were two mages channeling barrier spells.

And standing in front, leaning on his massive mace, was Gondar.

He looked pissed. His face was still red from the flash-dust I’d hit him with yesterday, and he had a bandage on his knee where I’d kicked him.

"Stop," Gondar shouted.

Tybalt pulled the reins. The horses skidded to a halt twenty feet from the line.

"Well, well," Gondar sneered, limping forward. "If it isn’t the bakery boys. And the traitor Knight."

"Gondar," I said, standing up in the wagon. "Get out of the way. We have business with the Council."

"The Council is in a closed session," Gondar said, hefting his mace. "And I have orders from Inquisitor Marek to detain any... suspicious vehicles."

He grinned.

"Looks like your luck ran out, farmhand. No flour sacks this time. No cheap tricks."

I looked at the line of Lions. They were high-level. Level 30-40. We were tired, battered, and out of spell slots.

"We don’t have time for this," Lysandra said, drawing her rapier. "Valen’s men will be here any second."

"We fight," Kaelen said, reaching for his sword.

"No," I said. "If we fight, we get bogged down. Marek catches us. We lose the Ledger."

I looked at Gondar. I looked at the Guild Hall across the square.

I needed to change the narrative. Gondar wasn’t a villain; he was an antagonist. His motivation wasn’t evil; it was greed and pride.

"Gondar!" I shouted, jumping down from the wagon. I walked toward him, hands empty.

"Ren!" Kaelen warned.

"Trust me," I said.

I stopped five feet from the Platinum adventurer. He towered over me.

"You want to arrest us?" I asked loud enough for his men to hear. "Fine. But do you know why Marek wants us?"

"Because you’re terrorists," Gondar spat.

"Because we have this," I said. I pulled out the Black Ledger. I held it up.

"This is Councilor Vance’s private book. It proves he’s been smuggling monsters into the city. Those Wyverns attacking the High Quarter right now? They belong to him."

Gondar hesitated. He looked at the sky where the faint screeches of the Wyverns could still be heard.

"So?" Gondar asked.

"So," I continued, stepping closer. "It also proves he’s been skimming off the Guild contracts. He’s been taking 20% of every bounty paid out in Silver-Port for the last five years. Including yours."

The Golden Lions murmured.

"Lies," Gondar said, but his grip on the mace loosened slightly.

"Check page 40," I said, bluffing about the page number but knowing the content was real because I’d read the wiki. "Operation: Lion’s Share. He cut your fee for the Sea Hydra contract in half and pocketed the difference."

Gondar froze. The Sea Hydra contract was his biggest claim to fame. And he had complained loudly about the low payout.

"You’re lying," Gondar growled.

"Am I?" I held the book out. "Take it. Read it. If I’m lying, you can smash my head in. If I’m telling the truth... then you’re working for the man who robbed you."

It was a gamble. A massive one. If Gondar was loyal to the Covenant, I was dead.

But Gondar was a mercenary. He was loyal to gold.

He snatched the book from my hand. He flipped it open. He scanned the pages.

His eyes narrowed. His face went from red to a dangerous shade of purple.

"That... little... worm," Gondar whispered.

He looked up at me. Then he looked past me, down the street.

Running toward us from the direction of the ramp were grey-armored soldiers. The Covenant. Marek was leading them, looking furious and covered in sand.

"There they are!" Marek shouted. "Stop them! Kill them!"

Gondar looked at Marek. He looked at the Ledger. He looked at his Golden Lions.

"Boys," Gondar said, his voice low and dangerous. "New orders."

The Lions braced themselves.

"Nobody touches the bakery wagon," Gondar roared.

He turned to face the incoming Covenant soldiers. He raised his mace.

"Hey, Marek!" Gondar shouted. "You owe me money!"

He charged.

The Golden Lions roared and followed their leader, clashing into the Covenant line with a deafening crash of steel.

"Go!" Gondar yelled over his shoulder at me. "Get that book to Sterling! Before I change my mind!"

I grabbed the Ledger back from his hand as I ran past.

"Thanks, Gondar!" I shouted.

"I’m still going to beat you up later!" he yelled back, smashing a Covenant soldier with his shield. "Just on principle!"

"Fair enough!"

I scrambled back onto the wagon.

"Drive, Ty!"

Tybalt whipped the horses. We skirted the brawl, rolling past the chaos of mercenaries fighting inquisitors.

We reached the steps of the Council Hall.

"We have to run the rest," I said. "Wagon can’t go up stairs."

We piled out. Kaelen grabbed his sword. Lysandra took point. I clutched the Ledger to my chest like a football.

We ran up the marble steps.

The guards at the door crossed their halberds. "Halt! Council is in session!"

"That’s the point!" Lysandra shouted. She didn’t slow down. She shoulder-checked the doors open, bypassing the guards with sheer momentum and authority.

We burst into the Council Chamber.

It was a circular room, tiered like an amphitheater. Nine Councilors sat at a high table. In the center, a man was speaking.

Councilor Vance.

He looked impeccable, not a speck of mud on him. He was smiling.

"And so," Vance was saying, "for the safety of the city, we must accept the Covenant’s aid. The Magical Registration Act is—"

BANG.

The doors slammed open.

Every head turned.

We stood there. Dirty, bloody, breathing hard.

"Objection!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the silent hall.

Vance turned. His face went pale.

"You," he whispered.

"Sorry we’re late," I said, walking down the aisle. Kaelen and Lysandra flanked me. "We hit traffic. And a dragon."

"Guards!" Vance shrieked. "Arrest these terrorists! They attacked my home!"

"We didn’t attack it," I said, holding up the Black Ledger. "We audited it."

I stopped in front of the High Table.

Sitting in the center was Lady Sterling. She was an older woman with steel-grey hair and eyes that looked like they could appraise the value of your soul. She wore a monocle and a suit of dark blue silk.

"Lady Sterling," I said, bowing slightly. "I am Ren, Guildmaster of Eclipse."

"I know who you are," Lady Sterling said calmly. "You are the ones causing a ruckus in my city."

She looked at the book in my hand.

"And what is that?"

"Evidence," I said. "Councilor Vance isn’t just selling you out to the Covenant. He’s smuggling S-Class monsters into residential districts. Oh, and he’s stealing from the Guild Association."

I slammed the book onto her desk.

"Page 40. Page 12. And the entire section marked ’Bribes’."

Vance lunged. "Don’t touch that!"

Kaelen stepped forward. He didn’t draw his sword. He just looked at Vance.

Vance froze.

Lady Sterling opened the book. She adjusted her monocle. She read in silence. The room held its breath.

She turned a page. Then another. Her expression didn’t change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

She looked up at Vance.

"Councilor," she said softly. "Is this your handwriting?"

"It’s a forgery!" Vance stammered. "They’re criminals! They—"

"It lists the exact amount of the deposit made to your account this morning," Lady Sterling said. "A deposit I authorized for the harbor repairs. Except here, it’s listed under... ’Payment to Inquisitor Marek for silence regarding the Wyvern Incident’."

She closed the book with a snap.

"Guards," Lady Sterling said.

The Council Guards stepped forward.

"Arrest Councilor Vance. For treason, embezzlement, and... stupidity."

Vance screamed as he was dragged away. "You can’t do this! The Covenant will burn this city! The Emperor will hear of this!"

The doors closed behind him.

Lady Sterling looked at me.

"The Magical Registration Act?" I asked.

"Tabled," she said. "Indefinitely. It seems our sponsor has been... compromised."

She stood up.

"You have done the city a service, Guildmaster Ren. Though your methods are... destructive."

"We try to keep the collateral damage to a minimum," I lied.

"I’m sure," she said dryly. "However. You have made powerful enemies today. The Covenant will not leave Silver-Port quietly. Marek is still out there."

"We’ll handle Marek," Kaelen said.

"See that you do," Lady Sterling said. "Because if you don’t, I’ll have to arrest you for the property damage."

She waved a hand. "Dismissed."

We walked out of the Council Hall.

The sun was rising over the harbor. The fighting in the square below had died down. Gondar and his Lions were sitting on the steps, nursing bruises and counting Covenant helmets they’d collected as trophies.

"We did it," Tybalt whispered, leaning against a pillar. "We actually did it. No one arrested me."

"Yet," Red grinned.

"We bought time," I said. "Silver-Port is safe for now. The Covenant lost their political foothold."

"But they still have an army," Lysandra noted. "And Valen is still out there."

"One step at a time," I said.

I felt a vibration in my pocket. Not the ID card.

A small, purple crystal.

I pulled it out. It was pulsing.

A message from the Weaver.

I held it to my ear.

"Well done, Ren," the Weaver’s silky voice whispered. "Vance is ruined. The city is open. A deal is a deal."

"The Fragment," I said. "Where is it?"

"The Second Fragment... Physics," the Weaver said. "It is not in a dungeon. And it is not in a vault."

"Where is it?"

"It is in the sky," the Weaver said. "Look up."

I looked up.

High above the city, floating amongst the clouds, was a massive, floating island. It had been there the whole time, disguised as a cloud. But now, as the sun hit it, the camouflage flickered.

It was a castle. An upside-down castle.

[Location: The Sky-Keep]

[Status: Hidden Layer]

"Gravity keeps it afloat," the Weaver whispered. "Or rather, the breaking of gravity. The Physics Fragment is the engine."

"How do we get up there?" I asked.

"You figure it out," the Weaver chuckled. "You’re the heroes."

The crystal shattered into dust.

I looked at my team. They were following my gaze, staring at the glitching cloud high above.

"Ren," Cian said, adjusting his glasses. "Is that... a castle?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Is it upside down?" Tybalt asked.

"Yeah."

"Are we going there?" Kaelen asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," I said.

"I’m going to need more flour," Tybalt sighed.

[Arc Objective Update: Secure the Physics Fragment.]

[New Location: The Sky-Keep.]

The Grind continued. But now, we had to learn how to fly.