The Master's Command

Ingrid, the Red Lord of the Red Temple, stood in his private chamber, a room dimly lit by the glow of molten lava flowing through channels in the walls. The temple, situated near an active volcano, was known for its powerful forge masters and skilled magic users. The heat of the volcano not only forged powerful weapons and armor but also fueled the magic that Ingrid and his followers wielded.

The chamber was lined with ancient tomes and relics, but Ingrid's attention was fixed on a large map dominating one wall. The map detailed the vast expanse of the Lost Island, a place that was more akin to a continent due to its sheer size. Each temple had carved out its territory: the Blue Temple in the frigid north, the Black Temple in the shadows of a dark jungle, the White Temple in the sun-drenched plains, and many others scattered across the diverse landscapes. Some temples, like his own, were well-known and accessible, while others remained shrouded in mystery, their locations hidden from most.

Ingrid traced his finger across the map, stopping at the center where the grand city of Lumera was marked—a hub where representatives of all the temples converged. His thoughts were interrupted as he turned to a small table on the opposite side of the room, where a sphere rested. Object had a cloudy, swirling interior, a magical artifact that allowed long-distance communication between those who possessed a paired sphere.

He reached out to one, activating it with a word of power, "Connect."

The clouds inside the sphere began to swirl faster, and after a few moments, the image of Marcus, one of Ingrid's most trusted disciples, appeared. Marcus, a seasoned mage and a capable tracker, was out in the field, fulfilling a crucial mission.

"Yes, my lord?" Marcus's voice came through the sphere, his image flickering slightly. "Did you call for me?"

"Marcus," Ingrid began, his voice measured, "do you have any news? Where are you now?"

"I am in Lumera, my lord," Marcus replied, the background behind him showing the bustling market of the central city. "I've been in contact with an underground organization known as Green Leaf. They have shared some interesting information about the new acolytes that arrived on the island this year."

"Go on," Ingrid said, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to the sphere.

"This year, 538 new players were teleported to the island," Marcus reported, "but already 278 of them have been killed. The survivors are struggling in various regions—jungles, deserts, the snowy expanses in the north. A few have joined temples, as is expected. However, the Black Temple has been particularly active, hunting new players, using them for their experiments, or bolstering their ranks."

Ingrid remained stoic, though his interest was clearly piqued. "And what of the Red Temple's prospects?"

Marcus's expression grew more serious. "There's one group that has caught my attention. Among the new players, a group clashed with a Black Temple initiate known as Dog. Remarkably, these new players managed to defeat Dog's group."

For the first time, Ingrid's composure faltered slightly. His breath caught as Marcus continued.

"One of the players used the Hellflame skill, my lord."

Ingrid's eyes widened, his mind racing. Hellflame was a skill that few could master, and those who did were often sought after by the Red Temple. "A powerful seed indeed," Ingrid murmured, his voice laced with anticipation. "Marcus, we must secure him for the Red Temple. This year, our quota and ranking have slipped. We need this acolyte. Find him at all costs."

Marcus nodded, his determination evident. "I will do so immediately, my lord. I will purchase a flying mount and head towards the last known location of this group. It will take me about a week to reach them."

"Do not fail me, Marcus," Ingrid said, his tone final. "This acolyte could be the key to our temple's resurgence."

The connection ended, and Ingrid stood in silence, his mind already planning the next steps. The Red Temple needed to regain its former glory, and this new player could be the catalyst for that change.

Marcus, now with renewed urgency, navigated the crowded streets of Lumera, making his way towards the market. He knew time was of the essence—if the Black Temple got to this group first, all could be lost.