Chapter 386: New Misfortunes

CH386 New Misfortunes

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The orb in Eleanor’s hand was an Interplanar Coordinate Orb.

However, unlike the orbs generated by an Interplanar Eye—which contained the discovered coordinates of a targeted plane—this orb was produced by the very Interplanar Portal Grand Formation that had brought Alex and his expedition to this world.

In truth, it was better described as a portable core of the Grand Formation.

Normally, all the expedition team needed to do was construct the base frame of a return portal, slide this orb into its designated slot, and the formation would automatically activate—returning them to Pangea after verifying the travellers’ origins.

But now... with the orb cracked, there was no longer a pre-made method to return home.

Which meant only one thing:

They were stranded.

Unless they could somehow find or create an alternative, Alex and his people were stuck in an unfamiliar realm.

So yes—Alex could be forgiven for inventing several creative, colourful, and profoundly inventive ways of cussing out Alric Wastelander.

At least he had enough discipline to keep the swearing strictly internal.

Unfortunately, the bad news wasn’t over just yet.

Seeing that Alex had already pieced together the implications of the broken orb from the ruined look on his face, Zora continued with the second issue.

She produced a handheld clock-like artefact.

It resembled a pocket watch—only slightly larger—and bore two clock faces.

One face was permanently locked to Pangea’s flow of time.

The other adjusted itself to the time flow of whatever plane they currently occupied.

A simple artefact—and yet an essential one.

It was used for planar class determination.

One of the primary ways Pangeans classified planes was through the ratio of time dilation between the plane and Pangea itself.

Having been in the new world for a few hours now, Zora—who safeguarded the artefact on Alex’s behalf—finally had enough data for a preliminary reading.

"This plane’s time runs at about one and a half times the rate of Pangea," she reported, her gaze sharpening. "Which means—"

"This plane is far from Class 3," Alex breathed sharply. "At minimum, it’s around Class 6... only slightly weaker than Pangea."

A cold weight settled in his stomach.

’Kick me while I’m down, why don’t you...’

Alex resisted the urge to swear out loud.

One thing he had learnt from Earl Drake Fury was:

’Never let your composure crack—especially not in front of the people who depend on you.’

So Alex swallowed it all back down.

Everyone in the expedition party was looking to him—counting on him—to lead them out of any situation. His quick thinking during their escape from the natives’ encirclement, and the way he flipped the entire situation on its head, had only entrenched their faith in him.

Even the two women who approached him with the cracked orb did so with a quiet, unspoken confidence.

There was no fear nor panic on their faces.

Only the belief –the trust– that Alex would fix it.

He couldn’t afford to break now.

If the rock they depended on cracked, who knew what would happen next?

So Alex reinforced his composure—almost in a Drake-like fashion—and kept his expression calm.

"We thought... maybe you could extract or copy the formation within the orb before it disintegrates completely," Eleanor suggested. "That way you can rebuild the formation later."

"Noted." Alex nodded, taking the orb. "Give me a few minutes to look it over."

His face barely shifted. Anyone watching would think he’d been handed a minor, routine problem—something he would certainly solve.

Only he knew just how serious the issue was.

But unfortunately for him, one person knew him too well.

As the two women started heading back to the camp, Zora slowed.

"Sorry, Eleanor. Go on without me. There’s something I forgot to tell Alex," she said with a light smile.

Eleanor simply nodded and continued on.

The moment she was out of view, Zora’s smile vanished.

She turned sharply and walked back to Alex—who was no longer examining the orb at all, but staring silently at the sky.

"Alex," Zora said softly as she moved beside him. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about our next steps," he replied with his usual charming smile.

However, contrary to Alex’s expectations, his smile only made Zora frown deeper.

"Alex... what’s the problem?" she asked again, her gaze sharp enough to cut through the façade he tried to maintain.

Alex exhaled softly. He knew he had been seen through.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"Woman’s intuition," Zora replied, crossing her arms. "And... there are very few people who know you better than I do."

"...Do you think anyone else will notice?" Alex asked.

There was genuine concern in his voice.

"Udara will," Zora said immediately. "Eleanor will figure it out eventually. As for the rest of the expedition team... I’m not certain. Havel and Silver are perceptive enough."

"Havel?" Alex raised a brow.

"Don’t let his lazy, carefree face fool you. He’s extremely observant—he just doesn’t act unless it matters. As for the others, I haven’t read them well enough yet."

Alex nodded slowly.

Zora really was settling naturally into her role as caretaker—and second-in-command—of his household.

Her years as the Enclave’s majordomo were showing. She understood people. She analysed them. She positioned them where they were most effective.

Zora turned back to him.

"I answered your question," she said softly. "So now... you’re going to answer mine, right?"

Alex sighed, long and heavy.

He finally lifted his palm and attempted to cast a spell.

Zora watched closely as the spell circle formed—something she had seen him do countless times. But this time...

The glyphs didn’t weave and morph as they should.

Instead, the moment Alex tried to manipulate them, the spell circle shattered.

He tried again.

And again.

Each attempt ended in the same abrupt collapse—every time he touched the formation’s structure, it broke.

A cold ripple of dread spread through Zora’s chest.

Her eyes shot from Alex’s hands to his face—his expression sunken, tense, and resigned.

And then he said it.

"This plane is rejecting my path," Alex said quietly. "It seems... on this plane... I can’t use Rune-Tech."

**36**