《Lost Harts: Shadow Realms Online, Book One》 Prologue Watch out for its tail! Asil shouted, her voice echoing across the scorched battlefield as the dragons barbed tail lashed out in a vicious arc. Flames from the beasts earlier breaths still smoldered on the craggy ground, sending thick smoke curling into the air. Jack pivoted on one heel and invoked his Side Step spell. With a sudden whoosh of displaced air, he vanished mere inches before the massive tail crashed into the spot where he had stood. An instant later, he reappeared twelve feet away, dust and ash swirling around him. Nicely done! Asil called, her relief evident as she sprinted for cover behind a collapsed stone pillar. Keep movingIve seen what that tail can do! From Jacks new vantage point, he could see the dragons underbelly, glimmering with hard scales except for a single missing patch. Within the open space lay soft, unprotected flesh. Jacks eyes lit up with determination. There! he shouted, pointing his sword. Thats our shot! He lunged forward, gripping EdgeLordthe fabled blade he had received from Gondel the High Wizardwith both hands. Sparks of crimson magic danced along its edge, hinting at the swords latent power. With a mighty thrust, Jack drove the weapon into the exposed underside of the dragon. The beast let out a deafening roar that shook the ground beneath them. Unable to shake free in time, Jack was forced to abandon EdgeLord as the dragon tried to flatten him by slamming its entire upper torso against the earth. Dust rose in a choking cloud as the creatures weight impacted the ground, embedding the blade deeper into its body. Asil coughed, waving a hand before her face to clear the debris. Jack! You alright? she yelled, straining to see through the swirling grit. Jack emerged a few feet away, stumbling but otherwise unscathed. Im good! he called back. Had to let the sword goI couldnt yank it out in time! The dragon roared again, swinging its horned head upward before unleashing a molten torrent of lava-like fire into the sky. Its fury knew no bounds; spines along its back rattled with rage. Then, in a single savage motion, it slammed its jaws earthward and spewed forth a boiling cascade of molten rock, aiming to incinerate Jack on the spot. But Jack was already gone. He invoked his Air Walking spell, hopping lightly into the air as though climbing invisible steps. Fiery droplets hissed and crackled where they fell, burning scorch marks into the rocks below. From her vantage point, Asil couldnt help but grin. Youve turned the entire battlefield into a real game of the floor is lava, she called out. But be careful! Jack seized the moment, vaulting higher and landing on the dragons neck ridge. The battered beast thrashed wildly, half-blinded by its own pain. Typically, mounting a dragon mid-battle was a death sentence. However, EdgeLords wound continued to sap its strength. Enraged, the creature clawed at the blades hilt, desperate to yank it free. All it managed to do was snap off the handle, leaving the enchanted steel embedded deeper in its flesh. Its weakening, Asil shouted, emerging from behind her cover. She readied her weaponthough nothing could rival EdgeLord in power, she was prepared to help if needed. Finish it, Jack! Sensing its life ebbing away, the dragon chose one final, desperate tactic. With a guttural snarl, it twisted onto its side and began to roll, intent on crushing Jack like a beetle beneath a boulder. Jack scrambled, gripping ridges of the dragons scales for dear life. He inched sideways, muscles straining as he fought the immense weight shifting beneath him. The smell of burning scales and spilled dragon blood assaulted his senses. Come on come on! Jack grunted, forcing himself to climb faster up the beasts flank. The scorching heat radiating from its body made every move an agony of seared skin. The dragon roared finally, flipping entirely onto its back with a tremendous crash that shook the ground like an earthquake. That last act proved its undoing: the remnants of EdgeLord drove deeper into its chest cavity, puncturing the heart with a sickening crunch. The dragons long neck arched, jaws parting in what was meant to be another roar of defiancebut only a ragged gasp escaped. With a series of shudders, its massive limbs twitched, then went limpthick red-tinged smoke leaked from its nostrils, carrying the creatures final, ragged breath with it. Jack stood triumphantly on the dragons exposed belly, panting from exertion. His body ached, and rivulets of sweat ran down his temples, but victory surged through his veins. You did it, Asil murmured, hurrying across the battlefield to meet him. Her eyes shone with a mixture of admiration and relief. I cant believe you took it down. That was incredibleand reckless. Jack hopped off the fallen beast, brushing soot and blood from his clothes. A wild grin lit up his face. Couldnt have done it without your warning shout. If you hadnt told me to watch out for the tail, Id be dragon food right about now. They both stared at the slain dragon, its immense bulk heaving once more before it fell completely still. The ground around them was charred black, and the air tasted sulfur. Yet amid the devastation, a strange sense of peace settled in. We need to see if we can salvage EdgeLord, Asil said gently, glancing at the gruesome protrusion of metal lodged in the dragons chest. If its still intact, we might be able to reforge the hilt. Jack nodded, taking a deep breath. Yeah but first, lets take a moment. He placed a hand against the dragons scales, almost respectfully. This thing was powerful, majestic in its way. But it chose to fight. And lost, Asil finished, her eyes lingering on the lifeless creature. Neither of them moved for a heartbeat, letting the adrenaline ebb and the gravity of their narrow escape sink in. Then, solemnly, they focused on the fallen sword and the uncertain path ahead. Jack exhaled slowly, relief and triumph flooding his senses. The colossal dragon lay lifeless on the screen, its final roar still ringing in his ears. With a grin that reached his eyes, he tapped a button to quick save before carefully setting his gaming controller on the end table beside him. He looked over at Asilhis wife and, in many ways, his perfect partner-in-crime for these gaming sessions. She was perched on the edge of the couch, her cheeks slightly flushed from the rush of watching him conquer the mighty beast on Shadow Realms 3. What playthrough was that, again? Asil asked, still beaming. No clue, Jack replied with a chuckle, running a hand through his hair. I lost count a while ago. But I do know this is the third time Ive officially beaten The Father of Dragonsand my first time on hardcore mode. Asil smirked, leaning back against the cushions. Jack could practically see the gears in her head turning, recalling all the times she had breezed through that same boss. Both were in their mid-forties, and Jack had played Shadow Realms 3 since its releaselong before he met Asil. Theyd been married for almost five years, and ever since Jack finally convinced her to give SR3 a shot, shed proven herself a prodigy, conquering dungeons and quests that took him ages to master in the early days. He never felt upstaged by her skill; if anything, watching her excel only fueled his admiration. Working from home gave them the flexibility to log extra hours, and with Jacks stepchild (Asils son) off at college, they were free to indulge their gaming passion together more than ever. Youre insane, she teased, nudging him with her foot. Still, seeing that monster go down yet again is pretty satisfying. I just hope I can keep up with you, Jack laughed. Im pretty sure you surpassed all my stats on your first run. Any other guy mightve felt emasculated by having his wife beat his high scores, but Jack only felt a surge of pride. He truly believed hed found the perfect life partnersomeone who loved gaming as much as he did and was equally good at it. A sudden glance at the clock caught Asils eye. Her mouth dropped open. Oh myJack, look! Its already past five Eastern Time! The trailer for the next Shadow Realmsits out! Instantly, they both remembered the reason behind their most recent marathon playthrough. Vera Games, the developers behind the Shadow Realms series, had hinted all week about a massive announcement: the new sequel, rumored to be years in the making, was finally revealed at precisely five oclock Eastern. Jack all but launched himself across the living room, nearly knocking the controller off the end table in his excitement. He grabbed his laptop from the coffee table and navigated to the official Vera Games website. His heart thudded as he glanced over at Asil, who wore an equally eager expression. You ready for this? he asked, a tremor of excitement in his voice. Bring it on, Asil murmured, sliding closer so she could see the screen. Ive been waiting all day. Jack cast the newly posted video to their 70-inch gaming TV, wanting to immerse themselves fully in the reveal. He allowed a few extra seconds for bufferingthis was prime time for millions of rabid fans worldwide to crash Veras servers. I cant believe this is happening, Asil whispered, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor. Weve been waiting for a new Shadow Realms title since forever. Yeah, Jack breathed, noticing a tiny buffering circle pop up on the screen. And from what Ive heard, theyve been secretly working on this for at least five years. Just as their impatience threatened to boil over, the video flickered, and the trailer began to play:

The Trailer A single blade of grass, rendered in exquisite detail, fills the screen. A subdued version of the Shadow Realms theme song plays quietly, building tension with each note. Suddenly, a drop of blood splatters onto a cluster of leaves. The camera pans back, revealing a patch of ground littered with other blood droplets and battered soil. The shot widens, revealing the intricate head of a double-sided battle-axe etched with glowing runes. The camera lingers on the gleaming, metallic surface as rivulets of crimson drip down the blade, somehow enhancing its savage beauty. A handthin, golden-hued, and unmistakably elvenwraps around the weapons haft. The figure is on one knee, head bowed in silent prayer. As the camera pulls out further, the Elfs heavy plate armor comes into view, decorated with runic etchings like the axe. Then, in a burst of motion, a robed figure sprints across the scene, arms outstretched and glowing with arcane energythe Shadow Realms theme crescendos to full volume. The camera swings wide, unveiling a sprawling battlefield teeming with chaoscreatures, magic, and steel clashing under a storm-wracked sky. A hulking green Orc wielding a massive blacksmiths hammer charges in from the opposite side. Without a word, the Orc grabs the Elfs arm, hauling the kneeling warrior to his feet. In a single fluid motion, the Elf raises his axe and bellows an ear-splitting battle cry. The Orc turns, letting out a roar of its own, and together, they charge after the robed mage, who hurls crackling bolts of energy at a horde of nightmarish creatures. The text appears at the bottom of the screen: ACTUAL GAMEPLAY FOOTAGE.

Both Jack and Asil gape in disbelieftrailers typically rely on pre-rendered CGI. Seeing real-time gameplay with this level of detail is staggering.
Finally, the screen fades to black. Four gilded numbers appear in the darkness, glowing in regal gold: 2.5.25.
Silence falls in the living room. The trailer ends, leaving only a pair of link cards for other Vera Games content. Neither Jack nor Asil blinks for a few moments. Their breathing seems loud in the hush that follows. That that date, Asil says at last, voice barely above a whisper. 2.5.25. So thats the launch date? I guess its February 5th, 2025, Jack murmurs, his mind racing. I cant believe we have a release date. They exchange an electrified glance. At that moment, both of them know the hype is accurate, and whatever comes next could eclipse every gaming experience theyve had so far. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. At that moment, Asil handed Jack a heavy black envelope. The thick paper bore slightly raised, nearly invisible runic designs, and You Are Invited stood out in simple gold lettering on the back. Jack studied it for a moment, then turned to his wife with a puzzled expression. Whats this? he asked, eyebrows lifting in curiosity. Asils smile widened. Happy anniversary, she declared, nodding at the envelope. But our fifth anniversarys still four months away, Jack replied, incredulous. I know, my love, Asil teased, her grin unwavering. Now open the damn envelope. He flipped it over to find a wax seal already broken. Inside was a black, heavy-stock card adorned with the same faint runic symbols. On the reverse side, the same gold lettering appeared in elegant calligraphy:
Dear Asil and One Guest, You are invited to visit our local offices to be the first to beta test Shadow Realms Online. Due to the nature of its release, the testing must be performed at one of our local facilities to maintain secrecy. You will be required to sign a strict NDA. Please be prompt, or your seat will be passed to one of our standbys. ~Montgomery Verant CEO of Vera Games
The bottom of the card displayed an address and a specific date and time. Jacks jaw dropped. He glanced at Asil, then back at the note, his mouth still slightly agape. Asil placed her index finger under his chin, gently closing it. Jack responded by kissing her fingertip. Is this for real? he finally managed, almost dazed. It is, Asil confirmed, nodding eagerly. When they announced their teaser, I reached out to a friend of a friend who works in Veras marketing department. He couldnt promise anything but said hed try to get my name on the beta test list. I never heard back, but then a private carrier dropped this letter about a week and a half ago. She shrugged happily as though reading Jacks next question before he even asked it. I wanted to wait until we saw the teaser to share it with you. But I couldnt resist opening it firstI had to be sure it was what I hoped it would be. Jack let out a whoop of excitement and immediately pulled Asil into a bear hug, squeezing her tight. She laughed, returning his embrace in kind. So they want us there the same week as our fifth anniversary? Jack said, still holding her. Thats some epic gift you orchestrated. And all I got you was a toaster. He finished with a lighthearted winkan ongoing inside joke between them. Their shared laughter filled the room, fueled by anticipation of what lay ahead. Several months had passed since the initial teaser reveal, and now the morning of the beta launch had finally arrived. True to their plan, Jack and Asil were up before dawn, determined to arrive at the developers offices well before opening. They arrived ninety minutes early, armed with camping chairs, steaming cups of coffee, and a box brimming with donuts. I figured the line would be out the door, Jack remarked, unfolding his chair. He scanned the empty parking lot, perplexed. But this place is a ghost town. Asil shrugged, placing her coffee on the ground. Maybe were too early. Or maybe people decided to trust the appointment times. At first, it seemed no one else would join them, but five others arrived a few minutes before the official start time. Leading the small group was a woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, and trailing behind her were four kids. Jack and Asil exchanged glances. Morning! the woman greeted. You two here for the beta test as well? Were Fionaand company. She motioned to the four youngsters, who were still yawning. This is Mike, Abby, Veronica, and Petros. Jack, he said, shaking Fionas hand. And this is Asil. Nice to meet you, Asil added with a polite nod. Jack soon learned Mike was seventeen and the oldest sibling, while fourteen-year-old Abby was his sister. Veronica, also fourteen, was Abbys friend; the youngest was twelve-year-old Petros. So, are you all gamers too? Asil asked, offering the group some donuts. I am, Petros answered eagerly, taking a chocolate-sprinkled one. Ive played SR3 since I was old enough to hold a controller! Hes not kidding, Fiona chimed in, amused. Our familys been into the series for years. Im the one who got the invitation. These twoshe tilted her head toward Abby and Veronicawere more or less forced to come along after their mother insisted they not be left alone at home. Abby and Veronica exchanged knowing glances, clearly less enthused than Petros or Mike. The conversation quickly turned to favorite questlines, rumored expansions, and the new games possible features. Jack and Petros bonded over the SRO teaser trailer, excitedly rattling off potential class builds and secret Easter eggs. Its going to be huge, Petros gushed, eyes excitedly shining. I cant wait to see how they turn SR3s single-player magic system into an MMO. Think theyll keep the runic inscriptions? I sure hope so, Jack replied. Thats what made spells feel so real in the original gamealmost like you were learning magic instead of just mashing buttons. Their chatter was interrupted by the audible click of a large lock being undone. The glass doors at the entrance shuddered, then slowly swung inward. A hush descended over the group, cutting short Asil and Fionas conversation mid-sentence. A thin layer of fog crept across the threshold, swirling around the ankles of two robed figures who stepped forward. Whoa, Veronica mumbled under her breath, exchanging a skeptical glance with Abby. Theyre going all out with the theatrics, right? Party fog machines, Jack murmured, pointing to the compact canisters mounted above the doorway. Not even turned off yet. Despite his casual explanation, he was secretly impressed by the developers commitment to ambiance. The robed figures gestured silently for the seven of them to follow. Inside the reception area, the lighting was deliberately dim, and it took a moment for everyones eyes to adjust after coming in from the glaring Arizona sun. As their vision cleared, a collective gasp echoed through the group. Medieval-themed dcor adorned the wallstapestries depicting dragons, knights, enchanted forests, sconces flickering with faux torchlight, and suits of armor standing at attention in the corners. The entire space emanated an otherworldly vibe, slightly offset by a modern reception desk near the back. I feel like we just stepped into one of the castles from SR3, Mike said hushedly. Its pretty surreal, Asil agreed, letting her fingers glide across a nearby tapestrys edge. I expected a normal office not this. Petross mouth hung open as he took in every detail, while Abby and Veronica exchanged more giggles, half-impressed, half-amused by the pageantry. Fiona gave them a quick, gentle shush, wanting to savor the moment. This is incredible, Fiona breathed. You can almost imagine youre in the game already. The robed guides led them to a long wooden table where seven sheets of paper lay evenly spaced. Beside each page sat a quill pen, complete with a small ink vialperfectly matching the games medieval aesthetic. On closer inspection, each sheet was labeled Non-Disclosure Agreement. Standard NDA stuff, Jack muttered, skimming the text. Dont share spoilers, no screenshots, no videos guess theyre serious about keeping everything under wraps. He noticed a page with his name neatly printed at the top, right next to one for Asil. At the far end of the table, Petros found his document. The boy frowned, tugging on Fionas sleeve. Aunt Fiona, did you give them our full names? Its right here on the paper. I never told them mine No, I havent shared our names with anyone, Fiona said, eyebrows knitting. She also looked at the other kids forms, each one personalized. All I did was RSVP. Jack glanced over at Asil, who gave him a slight shrug. The entire group seemed to share a moment of confusion, but the place''s ambianceplus the robed figures looking onpushed them to sign quickly. No one wanted to make a scene or lose their place in the beta. Eh, Jack whispered to Asil. They probably overheard us outside or have some advanced sign-up records. Still weird, though, Asil replied, adding her signature in a neat flourish. But Im too excited to let it bug me. Once the NDAs were signed, the robed figures motioned to a set of massive ornate wooden doors at the far side of the reception. Intricate carvings of dragons, gargoyles, and mystical beastsdirectly lifted from SR3 loredecorated the heavy panels. Torchlit shadows flickered across the carved surfaces, making the creatures appear almost alive. With a synchronized pull, the robed figures opened each door, revealing a large, dimly lit chamber supported by twelve ornate pillars, each wrapped in stylized murals and runic symbols. A faint, otherworldly glow emanated from unseen sources, painting the space with shifting patterns of light and shadow. Wow, Petros exclaimed, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous room. Its like stepping into a secret temple. Abby and Veronica exchanged wide-eyed looks, momentarily forgetting their earlier skepticism. Even Fiona paused in the doorway, her breath catching as she took the sight. Feels like were crossing into another realm, Asil murmured in awe. In equal parts, exhilarated and apprehensive, Jack inhaled the faint scent of incense or maybe some artificial fog lingering from the machines. He couldnt shake a slight tremor of anticipation. Whatever was waiting for them on the other side of those pillars, he had no doubt it would be more than just a run-of-the-mill product demo. Ready? he asked Asil, reassuringly squeezing her hand. She smiled at him. Ive been ready since the trailer dropped. Without further hesitation, the group proceeded into the chamber, curiosity and excitement building with each step, ready to discover just how far this beta test would take them. Each onyx pillar stretched nearly to the ceiling, gleaming with elaborate runic carvings that looked like they had been lifted straight out of the games lore. The angular symbols and swirling patterns were faintly illuminated by hidden lights, giving the stone an otherworldly sheen. Jack squinted at them, trying to recall which runes granted fire spells and which provided healing in the original game. If this was all for show, it was an impressive set design feat. Unreal, Petros breathed, craning his neck to see the top of one pillar. These runes theyre exactly like the ones in SR3. Before anyone could answer, five additional robed figures stepped from the shadows, joining the two who had guided the group here. Each newcomer moved with quiet precision, robes barely rustling against the polished floor. Together, they counted seven robed figuresone for each guest. Looks like were getting the VIP treatment, Asil murmured to Jack, eyes darting from one silent guide to the next. Or were about to join some cult, Jack joked, trying to mask his nervous excitement. Each figure approached a guest one by one and gently steered them to a specific pillar. Jack felt a delicate but insistent hand on his arm, leading him to the far-left column. He exchanged a glance with Asil, who was ushered to the middle pillar by a similarly silent attendant. Guess well see each other on the other side, she quipped, offering him a reassuring nod. Yeah see you soon, Jack replied, suddenly aware of the dryness in his throat. Once positioned in front of a pillar, the robed figures produced thick sets of darkened glasses, handing them to each person. Jack frowned as he turned the glasses over in his handsthe lenses werent translucent. They looked more like sleek blindfolds. These are for the demo? Mike whispered, holding his pair up against the faint light. Theres no way you can see through these. Probably part of an onboarding experience, Fiona guessed, though her voice wavered. This must be a new immersive technique. A ripple of uncertainty passed through the group, but curiosity and excitement quickly won out. The robed attendants pressed a series of glowing runes on each pillar one by one. With a muffled mechanical hum, a person-sized door swished open on the columns surface. Woah, Abby gasped, taking a small step back. She glanced at Veronica, who looked equally uncertain. Its like a secret compartment, Veronica murmured. Never seen anything like it. Jack peered inside his pillar, noticing the dark, cushioned satin walls and the angled back that seemed designed for someone to lean against comfortablyif one didnt mind how eerily coffin-like the space was. They really went all out, he muttered under his breath, feeling equal parts admiration and unease. He swallowed hard. Okay then Jack stepped into the pillar at the robed figures silent gesture, pressing his back against the angled interior. It felt snug yet padded as if carefully engineered to cradle a person in place. The hush inside was immediate, broken only by his breathing. The figure outside tapped a finger over its hood, signaling Jack to don the glasses. Alright, I guess this is it, Jack whispered. He tried not to think about how odd it felt to enter an enclosed space without any real explanation. Hope this is more comfortable than it looks. He slid the dark glasses onto his face, instantly, all light vanished. Heart pounding, he heard the door close with a gentle swish, sealing him into absolute darkness. Instinctively, he reached out, but his fingers only met the velvety satin lining. Asil? he called softly, knowing she couldnt answer. His voice sounded muffled in the confined space as if he were shouting into a thick blanket. Slowly, he became aware of a faint, almost static-like tingling coursing over his skin. It began at the tips of his fingers and toes, then spread inward as though he were standing in a charged energy field. His breathing quickened. Despite the initial adrenaline surge, a strange calm settled over himlike the moment before stepping onto a roller coaster. Is this really some VR demo? he wondered, his mind drifting. Or am I actually? The tingling sensation intensified, and a soothing heaviness weighed on his limbs. His head lulled back against the cushioned wall. Thoughts flitted hazily through his mindwhere was Asil now? What was happening in the other pillars? A soft hum, almost like a lullaby, filled his ears. Then, all at once, consciousness slipped away as though someone had flipped a switch in his brain. His final coherent thought reverberated in the emptiness: Is this really a VR demo? And with that, he lost consciousness. Chapter 1: “It’s Gotta Be VR, Right?” Jack slowly regained consciousness to the lilting sound of birds chirping, their morning song echoing across a world he had never heard before. It was a far cry from the hushed beta office where he last remembered signing NDAs. He also distinctly recalled leaning against that satin-lined boothyet now, the ground beneath him felt rugged, scratchy, and strewn with small rocks. Ugh Did they drop me outside while I was unconscious? he muttered, blinking at the harsh sunlight. Thats some top-tier immersion right there. He propped himself up on one elbow and surveyed his surroundings. Stretched before him was a dirt pathroad seemed too grand a term for what appeared to be little more than a well-trodden trail. Wild grasses and bushes grew on either side, and the sweet scent of spring flowers mingled with the tang of dust. Curious, he stood, wiping bits of gravel and dried leaves off his pantsexcept he wasnt wearing pants. Instead, he was clad in loose, tattered shorts and a thin shirt that had clearly seen better days. The material was scratchy, almost burlap-like, and definitely not the comfy jeans and casual tee he had on before entering the booth. Okay, thats new, he said, glancing down at his bare feet pressed uncomfortably into pebbles. No shoes in this beta test? Thats a little savage. He took a tentative step forward and winced as a sharp stone bit into his heel. Ow! he yelped, half-laughing. Alright, either Im in the worlds most realistic VR setup, or someone literally dumped me on a trail for a reality show. Im leaning toward VRno way any producers that twisted. Despite the discomfort, Jack couldnt help but let out a giddy grin. Everythingfrom the crisp freshness in the air to the prickle of tiny rocks underfootfelt startlingly real. He ambled along the side of the path, pausing every few seconds to touch the rough bark of a tree or inhale the floral fragrance of a wild bloom. This is insane, he said aloud, swatting a buzzing insect away from his face. I can practically smell the pollen. If this is VR, theyve nailed it. I cant wait to see the magic system. His musings were cut short by a subtle tugging sensation at his waist, not physical, but more like a gentle vibration inside his mind. He looked down to see a small pouch tied to his sidea pouch he was certain hadnt been there moments ago. Undoing the simple knot, he peered inside and discovered a leather-bound journal and a single quill. Now where have I seen this before? Jack mused, recalling the NDA forms at the office. Someones got a flair for continuity. He carefully undid the leather string clasping the journal and let it flop open to the middle, only to find blank pages. Page after page lay emptyuntil he reached the first sheet. Suddenly, words materialized on the paper in elegant, swirling script:
Rune Scribe Elementalist Blade Dancer Spirit Warden Witch Knight Savage Shaman Clockwork Alchemist Shadow Dancer Arcane Archer Bloodbinder Circle one to learn more.
Jacks eyes went round. He tapped the page with a fingertip, half-expecting it to feel warm or electronic. But it was just paperalbeit magical paper. He fished out the quill from the pouch and looked around, expecting maybe a hidden ink bottle somewhere. No ink. Huh. Invisible ink? Automatic drawing? Lets see if its magic magic. He touched the dry quill tip to the paper, circling Rune Scribe. Immediately, new lines of text appeared beneath the list, giving a detailed description of the class:

Rune Scribe (Spellcaster)

Select Rune Scribe? Yes / No
Wow, he breathed. Class selection screen, but in a medieval diary style. Neat trick. Still intrigued, he flipped a page and started circling Elementalist, discovering a fresh block of text forming as though an invisible pen were scribbling from within the journal itself:

Elementalist (Elemental Magic)

Select Elementalist ? Yes / No
Jack felt an exhilarated jolt ripple through his body. This was itthe hallmark of every RPG hed ever played: choosing his class. He let out an involuntary whoop, immediately blushing at the sound of his own voice echoing in the lonely wilderness. Get a grip, Jack, he muttered, scanning the horizon to confirm nobody was watching. Its just NPCs around here anyway. Without hesitation, he circled every option to reveal more info. Each class had its own page or two, from Blade Dancer to Bloodbinder. The text would vanish off the first page and fill the next one once space ran outlike some sort of interactive spellbook. He devoured every paragraph, excitedly mouthing words like Whirling Slash, Void Shield, and Illusionary Decoy. Man, these are all so cool! He grinned, flipping back and forth to compare stats. I wonder if there''s a multi-class option. Or maybe I will unlock more classes at higher levels. Could be some advanced synergy build. Eventually, he returned to the first page, scanning the final lines of each class description. Every entry ended the same way:

Blade Dancer (Agile Melee)

Select Blade Dancer? Yes / No

Spirit Warden (Support/Healer)

Select Spirit Warden Yes / No

Witch Knight (Dark Magic + Martial)

Select Witch Knight Yes / No

Savage Shaman (Totemic Warrior)

Select Savage Shaman Yes / No Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Clockwork Alchemist (Steampunk-Inspired)

Select Clockwork Alchemist? Yes / No

Arcane Archer (Ranged Hybrid)

Select Arcane Archer? Yes / No

Bloodbinder (Life-Force Manipulation)

Select Bloodbinder Archer? Yes / No

Shadow Dancer (Stealth/Rogue)

Select Shadow Dancer? Yes / No
Jack rubbed his chin. Hed agonize over the decision for hours if this were a regular game. But here, with the sun shining on his shoulders and a strange tang of uncertainty in the air, the choice felt more momentous. Alright, lets not overthink it, he said aloud. Were obviously in some next-gen VR environmentIm definitely not in Arizona anymore. Ill pick a class thats flashy and fun. He let out a laugh, imagining Asils eye-roll if she saw him standing in ragged clothes, giggling at a floating text prompt in a magical diary. Shed say, Stop messing around and pick a class, you doofus. In that exact tone. His gaze shifted across the class list one last time, enthralled by the possibilities. With a mischievous smirk, he tapped the quill next to the entry that caught his eye the most. Lets do this, he declared, half to himself and half to the unseen devs he was sure were watching. Prepare yourselves, worldI, Jack the whatever class I pick am about to own this beta! The text glowed faintly when he touched the quill to the Yes beside his chosen class. He felt a surge of static-like energy swirl up his arm, sending goosebumps dancing across his skin. A new line of text materialized beneath the page:
Class selected: Elementalist Welcome, Adventurer!
Jack let out a breath he hadnt realized he was holding. A breeze teased the edges of the journals pages, and from somewhere down the path came the distant sound of hoofbeats. NPCs on horses? he guessed, heart thumping with excitement. Yes! Quest time, baby. He snapped the journal shut and slipped it into his pouch. Taking a moment to crack his neck and stretch, he set off along the dirt road, bare feet protesting every little pebble. In his head, he was already mapping out combos and skill-ups, sure that if this were a VR experience, hed master the system in no time. After all, he reasoned with a chuckle, theres always a Save/Load functionright? His only lingering thought was the faintest kernel of doubt: What if this is real? But he dismissed it with a casual shrug, his cocky grin plastered firmly back on his face. Naah, he muttered confidently, Ill just git gud and breeze through. He whistled a tuneless melody, optimism and adrenaline coursing through him as he ventured deeper into this astoundingly vivid worldcompletely unaware that, for all his bravado, there was no restore point waiting if he made a fatal mistake.
As Jack crept through the woods, he winced at every pebble that stabbed the soles of his feet. The dirt road had been painful enough, but the soft leaf litter occasionally provided relief, at least here in the undergrowth. Still, the endless twigs and sharp stones seemed determined to punish him for wandering around barefoot. Next time, Im picking a class that starts with shoes, he muttered, pushing aside a low-hanging branch. A sudden buzz vibrated from the pouch at his sidean uncanny tugging sensation that felt more mental than physical. Jack unclasped the pouch and took out his journal, flipping to the last writing page. New text shimmered into view:
New Quest: Rescue the boy.
Thats it? he said aloud, frowning at the minimal instructions. No map marker? No flashy UI? Someones skimping on the tutorial. He glanced around, seeing only the sparse woodland, the narrow path, and sunshine trickling through the trees. Just as he was about to dismiss the quest text as some glitch, a shrill cry echoed further down the winding trail. The hairs on Jacks neck prickled with an anxious excitement. So thats my cue, he murmured, breaking into a jog despite every rock biting into his feet. His discomfort vanished when he turned a bend and saw a sight straight out of a fever dream. Three small, nightmarish creatures clustered around somethingor someoneon the ground. They stood maybe half his height, with wiry limbs ending in razor-like claws. Their emaciated torsos heaved as they hissed and chittered, revealing rows of jagged teeth. One turned its oversized head to glare at him, dark eyes burning with a menace hed never expected in a game. An image of a page from the journal entered his mind, with text appearing as if he were looking at the book:
Lesser Goblin Level 1 Lesser Goblin Level 1 Lesser Goblin Level 2
Okay, Ive read enough fantasy to know this cant be good, Jack muttered, heart pounding. He started backing away, instinct urging him to flee. But then a weak voice rang out: Help me please! Jacks gaze dropped to the boy lying at the creatures feet. One goblin gripped the kids ankle while another brandished a crude spear, poised to strike. Oh no, you dont, Jack growled under his breath. Great timing, me. Didnt bother testing any spells, huh? He opened his mouth to shout, but fear clogged his throat, producing only a strangled croak. The Level 2 Goblin cocked its head and raised a bony finger at Jack as if warning him to leave. Jack shook his head, an instinctive spark of defiance igniting inside him. He lifted both handsunsure what he expected to do. Probably nothing. Suddenly, lightning arced between his fingertips, a bolt of sizzling electricity that zapped one Level 1 Goblin and ricocheted into the second. The pair collapsed with a shrill, grating yelp, twitching on the ground like puppets with severed strings. Holy! Jacks eyes widened. I did not see that coming! Before he could celebrate, the Level 2 Goblin lunged at him with a jagged knife, knocking him flat. Pain erupted everywhere as the creatures furious slashes bit into his arms and ribs. Hot blood spilled into Jacks eyes, and terror replaced his bravado. This is too real, he panicked. Way too real! He mustered every ounce of will, gritted his teeth through the agony, and unleashed another surge of electric energy. The goblin hurtled backward, crashing into a tree trunk with a sickening thud. In the dark recesses of his mind, the journals text appeared again:
You have killed Lesser Goblin Level 2. Experience gained.
Jack panted, trying to quell the panic rising in his chest. He noticed the other two goblins stirring from the corner of his eye. The boy, now free, staggered to his feet and backed away, wide-eyed. Get back! Jack shouted, voice ragged with pain. A second wave of raw magic welled up in him, this time burning hot. He hurled his hands forward, and fire rained down upon the remaining goblins, scorching the forest floor around them. The creatures shrieked in unisonbrieflythen fell silent, their ashen forms collapsing amid the smoke.
You have killed Lesser Goblin Level 1. Experience gained. You have killed Lesser Goblin Level 1. Experience gained. Congratulations you have leveled up! You have reached Level 2.
A wave of dizziness crashed over Jack, sapping the elation he might have felt at leveling. Blood trickled down his arms, his vision swimming as he tried to stay upright. Thats new, he muttered, voice growing faint. No VR games ever made me feel this much pain right? He slumped to his knees, vaguely aware of the boy rushing toward him, hands glowing with a golden aura that pulsed like a heartbeat. Healing magic? Jack wondered distantly. Wait, is that an actual skill or But he couldnt hold onto the thought. Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision until he felt nothing at all, sinking into unconsciousness with the hazy image of the boys outstretched hands illuminating the blood-stained road. Chapter 2: A Dose of Reality Asil blinked groggily at the rough wool blanket draped over her body. It smelled faintly of woodsmoke and old linen, not exactly pleasant, but somehow comforting. She lifted her head from a hard, uneven pillow and took in her surroundings. A small stone-walled roomstark, cold, and furnished with only the rickety bed shed woken on a wooden stool and a narrow table. A draft hissed through cracks around a small, shuttered window on the far wall. This is not VR, she muttered under her breath, brows pinching as she took in every detail. VR pods didnt usually replicate the smell of mildew and stale air. And the way her skin felt chafed from the coarse linen nightgownRen Faire chic, if ever there wasseemed far too genuine. Slowly, she stood, running a hand over the rough-hewn stone walls. It had a coarse, gritty texture that gave her goosebumps. Could they have knocked us out and hauled us to a Renaissance festival gone wild? she mused, half-joking. Still thats a lot of effort, even for a fancy beta test. She searched for telltale signs of hidden electronicslenses behind shutters or faint wires threaded through tapestry edges. Nothing stood out. Her frustration spiked; something was off, and she couldnt yet put her finger on it. On impulse, Asil went to the heavy wooden door, expecting it to be locked. Shed planned to pound on it for attention, but it gave way immediately with a low creak. Mildly startled, she peered into the corridor. It curved gently in both directions, matching the cylindrical shape of a tower or fortress. A rectangular window across the hall cast feeble light onto the stone floors. Hello? she called softly, stepping out. Her voice echoed faintly, swallowed by the thick walls. Drawing closer to the window, she rose on tiptoes to peer out. Below, she glimpsed a tiny courtyard flanked by towering ramparts. Definitely some sort of medieval stronghold. Turrets, parapets, everything out of a storybook. Or at least a lavish show set. She pulled away, shaking her head in disbelief. A few steps down the hall revealed a narrow spiral staircase. It wound both up and down, but she chose to descend, trailing a hand along the cool stone. Half a story later, the spiral opened into a short corridor. Mouthwatering aromas drifted from somewhere aheadyeast, herbs, and maybe roasting vegetables? The clanging of pots confirmed a kitchen was nearby. Not VR, but certainly elaborate Asil pressed herself against the wall, inching toward the lively sounds. She spotted a spacious kitchen beyond the threshold at the corridor''s end. A round-bodied woman stood at a wooden countertop, vigorously kneading dough. A nervous-looking girl hovered close by, seemingly roped into chores. The womans cheerful, accented voice reached Asil: knead it like this, see? Theres no sense in rushing the yeast if you want a soft crumb Asil froze, uncertain whether to confront them or slip away in search of answers. Before she could decide, the woman spoke againwithout even turning around. Are you planning on coming in, dear? Or do you fancy standing at my door all day? Alarmed at being so easily detected, Asils heart lurched. She briefly considered bolting back up the stairs but forced herself to take a deep breath. Fine. Lets see what this is all about, she whispered, stepping into the kitchen with as much composure as she could manage. Inside, she noted rough-hewn wooden tables, hanging pots, and pans,and a stone fireplace crackling at one end. The smell of fresh dough, roasted onions, and a hint of rosemary filled the air. Yet no modern equipmentno stainless steel counters, no overhead vents. Her eyes widened in grudging admiration; whoever staged this was extremely thorough. There she is, the plump woman said lightly, glancing up for the first time. She had a round face, flushed from the heat of the hearth, and spoke with a heavy English accent. Not every day we find two strangers needing a roof, is it? She nodded toward the girl, who shrank behind the countertop. Asils pulse quickened. Two strangersdid this mean someone else from her group was here? She forced a polite smile. I yes, Asil began, faltering. Imwell, Im actually not sure where I am. Do you know who brought me here? Ay, I do, the woman replied, returning to her dough. But first, Im making bread, as you can see. She chuckled as though that answered everything. Names Geraldine, by the way. Dont mind the girl hereshes new too. Asil felt her frustration flare. She wanted to say This isnt a game, to call out the entire facade. But when she opened her mouth, the words tumbled out differently: Thisthis isnt just some performance or a game. The girls head snapped up, eyes wide. She shook it rapidly, signaling Asil to stop. Geraldine frowned in mild confusion. Game, dear? Geraldine echoed, dusting flour from her hands. Im not sure what you mean. Asil forced a chuckle, shifting tactics. Im sorry. Im just disoriented. Im not sure how I arrived here. Found you in the woods, we did, Geraldine said briskly, dividing the dough into pans. You were out cold. Had the lads carry you to a proper bed, lest you catch your death. I daresay youll be right as rain by tomorrow. Asil blinked, turning a questioning gaze to the quiet girl. The teen gave a tiny shrug as if to say its complicated. Meanwhile, Geraldine snatched up a covered tray of prepared food and headed toward an arched doorway. Ill be off, then. The master gets quite the appetite. She paused, giving Asil a motherly smile. You two get along now. She bustled off like that, leaving Asil alone with the girl in the lingering kitchen heat. They stayed silent until the thud of Geraldines footsteps disappeared. Are you here for the beta test, too? the girl whispered finally. Her voice trembled with equal parts hope and fear. Asils eyes widened. Beta test. Yes! My husband, Jack, and I came with five others. We were invited toWait. She peered at the girl. Youre one of the kids, arent you? The teen nodded vigorously. Im AbbyI came with my brothers and friend Veronica. Asil took a step closer, studying Abbys features. She didnt quite look like the girl she remembered meeting outside the office. Her hair was different, or maybe her face shape? But the eyes the eyes were the same. YouAbby? Asil stammered. You look so different. In the office, you had She waved a hand in the air, at a loss for words. Different hair, maybe? I dont know. Youve changed somehow. Abby made a face. Right back at you. You do not look like the woman I stood next to in line. Youre taller, or younger, or its hard to explain. I barely recognized you. A tingle of unease crawled up Asils spine. She unconsciously touched her face, wondering what might have changed. No wonder there were no mirrors in that room, she thought. I dont get it, Asil said softly. Is this some advanced face-alteration VR tech? If so, its beyond anything Ive heard of. Abby nodded, her expression equal to confusion and frustration. I woke up in the forest. Men were loading someone into a wagonprobably you. They put me in another wagon and brought me here. I had no idea this was part of the experience. Experience, Asil echoed wryly. Im starting to think its more than that. No cameras, no modern utilities I keep telling myself this is an elaborate set, but everything feels too genuine. Before Abby could respond, heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway. Instantly, Asil tensed, heart, thudding in her chest. She reflexively reached for a weapon that didnt exist, wishing she had somethingeven a kitchen knife. Whos that? Abby whispered, sounding equally apprehensive. Asil shook her head, pressing her back to the wall near the doorway. She didnt want to come off as hostile, but the last thing she wanted was to be caught off guard again. Whatever this place was, it wasnt a simple game or theme park. And she felt that discovering the truth would be far more dangerous than shed bargained for. Asil rubbed her side, feeling a vibration from beneath the folds of her borrowed gown. It wasnt until she noticed the small leather pouch tied at her waist that she realized the source of the odd buzzing. What the? she murmured, reaching down to investigate. Before she could loosen the string binding the pouch shut, Geraldine stomped back in, carrying an empty tray. The solid thud of her boots made the floor echo slightly. There you are, dears, the plump woman said, only half-looking their way. She set down the tray and moved to clean a separate countertop, her movements brisk and efficient. Come now, lass, she continued, addressing Abby. Remember what I showed you earlier. Youve had your chance to chattime to earn your keep. Abby gave Asil an apologetic shrug, then sprinkled flour across the wooden slab. She tore off a generous piece of dough from an enormous lump and kneaded it furiously, just as Geraldine had shown her before. Catching Asils gaze, Abby offered a weak smile, then returned to her work. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. You too, dear, Geraldine called, clearly speaking to Asil. Grab a broom. Im sure you know how to use one. It was not quite a request. Asil glanced around, spotting a broom in the corner. Her first instinct was to objectshe wasnt here to play medieval housemaidbut the womans tone brooked no argument. Reluctantly, Asil picked it up and began to sweep the stone floor, wincing every time a grain of flour or an errant piece of dough flew her way. The kitchen was large and relatively well-equipped by medieval standards, but no modern appliances were in sight. It smelled of yeast, salt, and occasionally the faint tang of burning wood from the hearth. Geraldine cast a fleeting smile at the pair. Thats more like it, she commented, shifting about with surprising grace for someone so robust. Good to have helping hands in these hollow halls againtheres been too much quiet lately.
Evening and Reflection The day stretched on with menial and oddly intimate tasks: folding linens, assisting with simple meal prep, and scrubbing counters. Geraldine offered no further explanation of how Asil or Abby had wound up here. Instead, she simply accepted them as two more sets of capable hands. When the chores finally wound down, Geraldine served them dinnerhearty slices of bread, a thin but tasty stew, and a small mug of herbal tea. She then escorted them back to the stone-walled room where Asil had initially been awakened. There you are. She patted the frame of the wooden door. Hope youll both find your rest tonight. Best not to wander offno telling who might be about these corridors. With that, she nodded politely and trundled away. A hush fell over the room, broken only by a low crackling from the embers in the small fireplace. Finally alone, Asil muttered under her breath, rolling her shoulders. Her back ached from sweeping. Abby, looking equally weary, let out a sigh of relief and then moved to the corner where a washstand stood. A water pitcher and a large bowl perched atop it, presumably for quick wash-ups. Hey, Abby called quietly, lifting something from behind the bowl. Theres a mirror here. Its kind of beat up, but maybe you can use it. The handheld mirror she extended had a spider-webbed crack across one corner and brownish specks from either rust or age. Regardless, it was the best chance Asil had to see what she looked like. Abby only took one glance at her reflection before letting the mirror slip from her fingers. She stood there, frozen in shock. Careful! Asil exclaimed, lunging to catch the mirror just in time. Whats wrong? She looked at Abbys pale face and decided to find out for herself. Turning the mirror around, Asil lifted it toward her faceonly to gasp as she registered the stranger staring back at her. Darker eyes than she remembered; hair at least two shades lighter. Her cheeks and jawline seemed reshaped, youthful in a way that didnt match her memory. I I look like a relative of mine, she thought, heart pounding. But this isnt my face. Before she could reason it outelaborate VR illusions, advanced prosthetics?a muffled sob drew her attention to Abby, who had stumbled back onto the bed. The girl had her face buried in her hands, shoulders trembling. Oh oh, Abby, Asil murmured, carefully placing the mirror on the washstand. She hurried to the bedside, wrapping an arm around the teen. Hey, hey its okay. Well figure this out. Abby sniffed, rubbing at her eyes. I I dont understand whats happening. We were just tagging along for the beta test. We never even cared about the gameMike and Petros were the real gamers. Veronica and I just wanted to poke fun at them. Asil stroked the girls hair, trying to project confidence she didnt feel. I know. Believe me, this wasnt my idea either. Im still trying to figure out everything. Gradually, Abbys breathing steadied. Then her eyes widened, and she patted her torso like someone searching for a lost phone. At the exact moment, Asil remembered the peculiar vibration shed felt in the kitchen. The bag! she gasped, pressing a hand to her hip. Sure enough, the little leather pouch still hung there. They each opened their pouches simultaneously. Inside, each found a leather-bound journal and a feather quillalmost identical to the one they had used to sign the NDA back at the office. Abbys eyes gleamed with fear and fascination as she watched Asil undo the clasp and flip open the book. A single feather slipped outno inkwell or pen nib in sight, just the quill. Then, before their astonished eyes, words began materializing on the blank page:
Rune Scribe Elementalist Blade Dancer Spirit Warden Witch Knight Savage Shaman Clockwork Alchemist Shadow Dancer Arcane Archer Bloodbinder Circle one to learn more.
Abby jerked back in alarm, tumbling onto the bed with a soft thud. She stared at the forming text as though it might spring to life and grab her. H-How is that happening? she whispered, voice trembling. Asil carefully sat beside her, turning the book so both could see. I have no idea, she admitted, exhaling in awe. But lets see what it does. Maybe its a clue. She ran a fingertip over the first optionRune Scribebut nothing happened. Then Abby handed her the dropped quill. This is just like what we used back at the beta office. Maybe thats the trick, the teen said, her curiosity overcoming her fear momentarily. Feeling inexplicable excitement, Asil lowered the quills tip to the page, encircling Rune Scribe. It took a second, but then a faint glow traced the path of her quill. Immediately, more text bloomed into view, describing the class in detail, ending with:
Select Rune Scribe? Yes / No
Not pausing to read the entire class summary, Asil continued to circle each subsequent class name, flipping pages as new text filled them with descriptions for Elementalist, Blade Dancer, Spirit Warden, etc. Each one ended with the same question: Yes / No. Abby leaned in, eyes darting from line to line. This is crazy, she whispered, though Asil noted a spark of relief in her voice. Something about having a tangible game interface brought a sense of familiaritymaybe even hope. Asil couldnt stop a slight grin from forming, though tension still coiled inside her like a spring. For all the strangeness, the journaling system was oddly thrillinglike discovering a new skill tree in a beloved RPG. She pictured Jack in her minds eye, imagining his reaction. Jack would be losing his mind, she thought with a bitter-sweet warmth. He probably thinks this is all just a super-immersive VR environment That dumbass. She turned the pages, resisting the urge to circle Yes next to a class. Whatever was going on, it was bigger than some novelty appand more intense than any VR system she knew of. Well figure this out, Abby, she said, gently closing the journal. Theres got to be a reason for all this. We must keep our eyes open and stay safe until we find the others. Abby nodded, wiping the last tears from her cheeks. Do you think the rest of themJack, Mike, Petros, Veronicahave journals too? Id bet on it, Asil replied, her gaze lingering on the swirling calligraphy etched into the books cover. Wherever they are, theyre probably discovering the same classes. A soft hush enveloped the chamber. Outside, the halls had quieted, and the fireplace flicker cast dancing shadows on the bare stone walls. The only sound was their breathingand the soft rustle as Asil tucked the quill and journal back into her pouch. I just hope Jack hasnt done anything reckless, she muttered. And in that moment, she realized just how deeply her worry ran. Despite all her doubts, all her frustrations, one fact remained: if this worldwhatever it wasproved more perilous than a simple game, Jacks cocky attitude could land him in real danger. Asil stared at the journal page for several long seconds, heart pounding in her ears. The bold letters Blade Dancer seemed to shimmer as though calling to her. The faint memory of holding a swordthough shed never done so in real lifepulsed at the edge of her consciousness, beckoning her toward the choice. She exhaled, steeling herself, and circled Yes beside the class name. She lifted the quill no sooner than a tingling sensation shot up her arm, making her fingers twitch against the journals leather cover. It felt like an electric current, yet without the sharp sting of a shock. Instead, it carried a deep, vibrating warmth that surged from her fingertips to her shoulders, then rapidly through the rest of her body. Asil? Abby asked, eyes widening. She instinctively reached for Asils shoulder. Are you okay? Wordsalien yet familiarraced through Asils mind, a flood of knowledge forcing itself into her consciousness. She tried to understand it: stances, footwork, forms, sword grips, parrying. She could swear her arms remembered the weight of a blade, the rhythm of a dance-like combat sequence, even though she had never held a medieval sword. The overwhelm grew too strong. Her vision blurred, and her legs gave out from under her. Abbys startled cry echoed in her ears as the girl lunged to support her, guiding her onto the bed. Asil collapsed face-first into the coarse blankets, gripping the fabric like a lifeline. No no, she mumbled, trying to shape words but failing. Her throat felt tight, and her lungs constricted. Yet the flow of knowledge didnt stop. It became a torrent, a kaleidoscope of memories and muscle recollections that werent hers. In her minds eye, Asil saw herself sparring against a faceless opponent, sweat pouring down her brow, every step a fluid dance of steel. She saw runes etched into a slender blade. She felt calloused palms that had swung weapons a thousand times. But none of it was genuinewas it? Asils cry twisted into a silent scream, the force of it rattling her skull. She squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face deeper into the mattress. The room around her fell away like the floor of a trapdoor, and she found herself plunging into a dark void. Ghostly images of sword drills and blade stances spiraled around her, each snapping into her consciousness with the clarity of lived experience. Stop please I cant She had no sense of up or down, just the weight of knowledge cramming itself into her mind, threatening to crack it wide open. Panic shot through her, and she reached out for anything to stabilize herself in this endless fall. Then, abruptly, she felt strong arms wrap around her astral form, a comforting warmth that chased away the terror. She looked up through half-lidded eyes and saw Jackor an image of him. His familiar grin soothed her frazzled nerves, and though no words formed on his lips, she heard his voice in her head as clearly as if he were standing beside her. You got this, my queen. A flood of relief coursed through her, soothing the raw edges of her mind. The swirling combat techniques and arcane dance steps began to fade, receding into her memory like a distant dream, but still therefully absorbeddeep within. And then came the final plunge into unconsciousness. She could have sworn she felt Jacks arms tighten, protecting her as she drifted off. The last thing Asil remembered was the soft brush of his lips against her temple and the resonating echo of his reassurance. Hes with me Well be okay The world around her went still. Her breathing steadied, and she slipped into a dreamless sleep, the newfound knowledge resting inside her like a sheathed blade, waiting for her to awaken and truly claim her power. Chapter 3: Im No NPC! A soothing coolness slipped through Jacks limbs, chasing away the agony that had nearly driven him unconscious only moments ago. It felt like gulping down a tall glass of ice water after stumbling through a deserthis body craved it with almost desperate gratitude. He blinked, expecting a fresh wave of pain, but to his surprise, none came. Cautiously, he propped himself up on his elbows, then lifted his head. A little ways away, the boy hed rescued lay on his back, panting heavily as hed just sprinted a marathon. Hey, kid, Jack called, voice scratchy. Are you hurt? The boy, barely able to speak, shook his head and gave a feeble thumbs-up. Jack stretched out each leg, testing his range of motion. He could hardly believe he was in perfect shapeno gashes, no throbbing bruises. Better get used to this super-realistic healing system, he thought, still half-convinced it was some next-gen VR trick. Once he found his footing, Jack lumbered over to the boy and extended a hand, helping him stand. The kids breathing was still rough, his cheeks flushed, and he looked somewhat fragile in a tattered shirt and dirt-streaked trousers. Despite that, he seemed determined to keep it together. Thanks, the boy managed, voice shaky but polite. Jack tilted his head, studying him. You sure youre okay? Im good, the boy said after a few breaths, his tone low but earnest. Then he ventured a shy smile. Jack paused for a beat. The kid didnt look like any NPC hed ever encountered in a game; his eyes brimmed with real emotion and intelligence. Still, Jack had to ask. Are you an NPC? he asked, his brow furrowing. Like, a non-playable character or something? The boy huffed a short laugh, more of a nervous exhale. No, he replied. Im not a non-playable character. He said the words as if they amused him but also as if he recognized precisely what Jack meant. Jacks shoulders relaxed. Guess that means youre a tester like me, huh? From the Arizona group? A flicker of relief passed over the boys face. He nodded, almost self-conscious, and brushed some dirt off his shirt. Y-Yeah. I came with my aunt and siblings. There were seven of us total, I think. Youre youre not my brother, right? Jack stroked his chin thoughtfully. Nope. Im Jack Hart. He offered a half-smile. I came with my wife, Asildark hair, fiery attitude. You mightve seen her. The boys eyes lit with recognition. Oh! I remember you two. Did you say you Wait, are you the Jake my aunt was talking about? Jack let out a big laugh. Close enough, man. Its Jack. And you must be He paused, recalling the half-dozen names bandied about outside the developers office. Mike, right? A shy grin tugged at the boys lips. Actually, Im Mikes younger brother, Petros, he admitted sheepishly. But everyone gets us mixed up. Im used to it. Gotcha, Jack said, inwardly noting that maybe his memory from that chaotic morning was a little fuzzy. Well, nice to meet you, Petros. They stood there, shaking hands as if sealing a contract, each scanning the path they found themselves on. The road meandered through a sparse forest with thick underbrush and scattered bouldersany of which might hide more goblins, for all Jack knew. They began speaking at once: You wouldnt happen to Jack said. Have you seen my Petros started simultaneously. They both chuckled at the awkward collision of questions. Jack motioned for the kid to go first. Have you seen any of my family? My aunt, my older brother Mike Abby or Veronica? Petros asked, eyes hopeful. Jack shrugged apologetically. Afraid not, buddy. Youre the first person Ive encountered since I woke up on this road. I did hear horses at one point but never caught up with them. So no sign of my wife either, then? Petros shook his head slowly, offering a sympathetic grimace. No, sir. I wish I had, honest. IIve been looking for them too. They stood in silence for a moment. The weight of possible dangerswherever the others might behung over them. Jack cleared his throat, determined not to wallow. Suddenly, he felt a vibration at his side. Judging by Petross startled expression, the boy felt it, too. They each reached for a small pouch hanging from their belts. You got one of these? Petros asked quietly, pulling out a slender journal identical to Jacks. Jack held up his own. Sure do. Fanciest VR menu ever, right? They flipped through their journals in unison, scanning the updates. Jack found a recap of the goblin battle, including the level-up prompt hed glimpsed earlier. Sure enough, additional lines had appeared:
Quest complete: Rescue the boy. 23 copper coins added to your pouch. Experience gained. You have 1 unused skill point. Loot Lesser Goblin Level 1? Yes / No Loot Lesser Goblin Level 1? Yes / No Loot Lesser Goblin Level 2? Yes / No
Look at this, Jack murmured, tapping the page. Loot windows, just like a real RPG. He pulled out his quill and circled Yes under each prompt. New text materialized:
17 copper coins added to your pouch Worn spell tome added to your pouch Simple sandals added to your pouch
Jack arched an eyebrow at the mention of sandals. Dont see those fitting in here, he muttered, patting the pouch. Then, to his surprise, he felt a firm, cloth-like object. Awkwardly juggling the journal under one arm, he reached in and drew out a pair of simple sandals. They looked used but not damagedserviceable enough to spare his aching feet from more abuse. He stepped into them and did a quick little shuffle. They fit perfectly. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Nice, he said, flashing Petros a grin. Petros finished reading his journal and then turned to Jack with a shy but curious expression. So, um I got some copper coins, too, he admitted quietly. And I mightve snagged a leftover healing salve. Weird how it just appeared in my pouch, right? Jack nodded in agreement. Yeah, I guess thats how the loot system works. He pulled a fistful of coins from his pouch, glinting shiny, freshly minted copper discs. I was about to say we should split, but we both got our share. Petros shook his head. Its all good. Im guessing the journuh, the system calculates stuff individually. Jack slipped the coins back into his pouch, noticing Petross gaze drifting down to the boys own scuffed boots. Better footwear than me, huh? I was practically dying out here, barefoot. Petros gave a small smile, revealing a bit of his shy nature. Guess I got lucky with my class choice, too, he said softly, patting his journal. I, um, I picked a Healing class. It said something about, uh, you knowSpirit Warden or something like that, and next thing I know, I was healing you. Jack snapped his fingers. Thats what I figured! I saw that golden aura. Its, like, the best skill for saving my butt. Thanks, by the way. A light blush crept into Petross cheeks, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. You saved me first, with those lightning bolts and that fire. Ive never seen anything like that outside a video game. Its its incredible. For a moment, neither spoke, reflecting on how absurdly real the situation felt. The forest canopy rustled with a light breeze overhead, and the distant croaking of frogs near a stream reminded them they were not in any sterile VR environment. So, Jack said, clearing his throat. Whats the plan, kid? Think we should follow the road to wherever it leadsor try searching these woods for the others? Petros brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, brow furrowed. Not sure. If there is one, the others might head for a settlement. Could be a village nearby, right? Jack nodded, recalling how roads in RPGs typically connected to towns. Sounds solid. Lets hit the main path to find a signpost or something. And if we run into trouble He waggled his fingers, feigning a mini lightning show. weve got some spells. Plus, your healing mojo. Petros smiled more earnestly this time. Deal, he said. I, uh Im kind of nervous, but you know, its better than going alone. Jack clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Hey, you stuck your neck out to heal me, right? That takes guts. Id be proud to team up with someone like that. Lets go find our peoplemy wife included.
Healing, you took a lot out of me, the boy admitted. I think I I exhausted my magic. He held up trembling hands, and golden sparks flickered across his palms before sputtering. He rubbed them against his pants with a frustrated frown and tried again. This time, the glow stayed for a couple of seconds longerenough to make his entire face light with renewed confidence. Feels like my magic is refilling, he said shyly. Its hard to describelike an empty well is slowly filling back up. Jack eyed his fingers. With a mental nudge, he summoned a small arc of electricity that crackled between them. He let it grow for a moment, then snuffed it out. Guess, as an Elementalist, I have a bigger tank, he joked, voice dripping with mock bravado. The boy gawked, half-impressed and half-bemused. I think your powers incredible, he confessed. You basically nuked those goblins in seconds. Jack chuckled, shaking his head. Nah, kid, yours is the cool power. Healing is way rarer if you ask me. But I guess the grass is always greener, right? He paused. Speaking of powers, what else can you do? At that, the boys eyes widened with excitement. He scrambled for the leather-bound journal dangling at his side and flipped through a few pages. I picked a healing class, he explained, but I also have one offensive spell, and this guardian or familiar? Its called Spirit Guardian in my notes. Dude, that is awesome. Jacks own eyes gleamed. Lets see it! Without another word, the kid snapped the journal shut and stood up. He motioned for Jack to step back once or twice until Jack was nearly ten paces away. Petros then clasped his hands, causing a blueish glow to radiate from his palms. Thin, circular discs of pale blue light formed around his wrists, each etched with faint runic symbols. Moments later, a larger rune circle shimmered on the ground between them. From that circle rose a vague, humanoid shape of swirling blue mist. It coalesced and darted forward at inhuman speed, zipping around the road in wide arcs. After a quick circuit, it hovered near Petros as if to acknowledge its summoner, then spun abruptly and streaked straight for Jack. Whoa! Jack yelped, stumbling backward onto the dirt. The spirit soared overhead, leaving a trail of goosebumps on his skin. What the heck?! The creature banked around a tree and made another beeline toward Jack. This time, Petros clapped his hands sharply, and the apparition vanished mere feet before it would have collided with him. Sorry! Petros blurted, red-faced. I-I didnt know it would target you. But Jack answered with a loud whoop of excitement as he sprang to his feet. That was AWESOME! he shouted, excitedly grabbing the boy by his forearms. Kid, thats insane! It flew around like a guided missile and gave me chillsliterally! Petross worried expression melted into a grin, clearly relieved by Jacks enthusiasm. They took turns testing spells for the next several minutes: Jack conjured small sparks of lightning and flickers of fire while Petros practiced getting his golden healing aura to flare at will. Exhaustion built with each surge of magic until both collapsed onto the roads edge, breathing heavily. Were losing daylight, Jack pointed out, noticing the sky had deepened into purple and orange. Soon, it would be too dark to travel safely. We should make camp. A burnished orange glow settled over the forest, painting the treetops in gold and crimson. Realizing they had no lodging, they collected fallen branches and twisted brush from a nearby thicket, then arranged them into a rough firepit in a small clearing off the road. Jack, wearing a cocky grin, set a hand over the kindling. Guess Ill practice my fire spell, he said. With a subtle flick of his fingers, tiny embers danced across the wood. A crackling flame caught hold in moments, bathing them in welcome warmth. Petros watched in awe, still struggling to accept how real everything feltthe nights chill, the smell of smoke, and the lingering tingle of magic coursing through his body. I never thought Id be able to do something like this, Petros admitted, hugging his knees to his chest. Ive played many fantasy games, but its totally different experiencing it for real. Jack nodded, stretching out his legs. Despite his casual demeanor, the adrenaline of the days goblin fight still buzzed through him, and the novelty of conjuring lightning never got old. Yet beneath the bravado, an uncertain knot tightened in his stomach. He missed Asil and had no idea if she was safe. Yeah, Jack said, voice low. My wifes probably flipping out. Shes the practical oneyou know, the type who reads all the instructions in a game manual before hitting start. Petros gave a faint smile. Sounds nice. It must be cool to have someone like that to share stuff with. They fell quiet momentarily; each lost in his thoughts as the flames danced between them. The sky darkened steadily, revealing a smattering of stars overhead. After a few beats of companionable silence, Jack cleared his throat. So, kidmind if I ask how you got into gaming? You said you werent the biggest fan, but you definitely handle that spellbook like a natural. Petros shrugged, looking down at his feet. I-I guess Ive always liked the idea of being a herodoing something good. My older brother, Mike, hes the real gamer. Me? Id mostly watch him play. Sometimes, Id sneak in a turn when he wasnt around. He fiddled with a small twig, tossing it into the fire, where it hissed and popped. Im kind of shy in real life, he said, cheeks reddening. In games, I can be anyonelike a wizard or a warrior, you know? So I guess this, he waved a hand at the flickering flame, is, like, my chance to do something that matters. Jack smiled. Trust me, youre braver than you think. Besides, I wouldve been toast if you hadnt healed me. I owe you for that. Petros exhaled, a tremulous grin on his face. Its okay. You saved me first. They let the hush settle again, the crackle of the fire, and their only conversation for a few breaths. What about you? Petros ventured, trying to hide the tremor of nerves in his voice. Howd you get so confident? Jack barked a short laugh, tossing another branch onto the flames. Sparks shot upward into the night. Ive always been like this, I guessa loudmouth who thinks lifes one big game. When I was a teen, I got myself into trouble plenty of times, pissing off teachers and ignoring adviceI figured Id just breeze through. But then I met Asil. He paused, letting a nostalgic smile tug at his lips. She grounded me in a good way. Showed me how to slow down and think. But hey, old habits die hardespecially when youre stuck in a VR wonderland. Petross eyes flitted over the darkening woods. You really think its VR? Jack shrugged nonchalantly, though the question unsettled him. Sure. I mean yeah, its gotta be. He stared too long into the flames as if trying to convince himself. A soft breeze rustled the trees around them. Night creatures chirped, adding a gentle chorus to the crackling wood. As the stars multiplied overhead, exhaustion tugged at their eyelids. They soon ran out of small talk, each boyishly proud of his newfound powers yet anxious about the unknown. With no better options, they decided to bed down beside the warm glow of their campfire. Ill keep an ear out, Jack mumbled, folding his arms behind his head as he lay against a makeshift pillow of dried moss and leaves. If any goblins come sniffing around, Ill fry em. Petros nodded, yawning. He nestled close to the fire, his journal tucked safely. Thanks, he said quietly, voice trailing off. But maybe I can heal you again if something goes wrong Deal, Jack responded with a grin. Seconds later, Petross breathing slowed into the soft rhythm of sleep. Jack stared at the sky, trying to make sense of the swirl of eventsgoblins, magical journals, actual wounds, and real healing. Despite his bravado, a flicker of doubt gnawed at him: Was this indeed just a game? Eventually, fatigue claimed him. The warmth of the fire lulled him into a dreamless doze, and the flames burned down to smoldering embers under the silent constellations. Chapter 4: Blade Dancer for Half a Day Asil came to some hours later, rousing from an oddly dreamless sleep. She opened her eyes to find herself in pitch darkness, the stone walls of the room vaguely outlined by the faint glow of dying embers in the fireplace. Immediately, she felt a warm weight on her right hand and experienced a fleeting surge of hopeJack? But no, the hand belonged to Abby, who had dozed off while holding hers. A soft sigh escaped Asils lips as she remembered the swirl of impossibly vivid memories and techniques that had flooded her mind before she collapsed. She carefully set Abbys hand aside and rose from the bed, half expecting some residual pain or even muscle spasms from her, for lack of a better term, transformation. But instead of stiffness, she felt incredibly limberas if she had spent years mastering a martial art shed never actually practiced. Is this the so-called Blade Dancer class? she wondered, flexing her arms experimentally. She felt like she could vault a wall without breaking a sweat. Asil began to stretch and test the newfound agility in her limbs, moving through a series of fluid, graceful stances that seemed to surface from her muscle memory. In the dim glow, she carefully stepped around furniture, tables, and the walls, never once bumping into anything. It was almost like she memorized the entire layouteven though shed only been in this room briefly. No VR has ever felt this tangible, she mused, recalling Jacks easy assumption that all of this was just a game. Yet here she was, balancing on the balls of her feet without any sign of fatigue or discomfort. Satisfied she wasnt about to collapse, Asil made her way to a small table where she recalled seeing extra candles. She picked up a couple and moved to the fireplace. The embers winked feebly, but their heat remained strong enough to set one wick alight. She ignited the others from there, replacing the rooms spent candles with fresh, flickering flames. Their glow revealed a battered oil lamp on a nearby shelf. Turning the wick knob, she used a candle to spark a small flame inside, and soon soft lamplight filled the immediate area. Behind her, she heard the rustling of blankets and the light groan of a teenage girl waking. Hey, Asil said gently, setting the lamp on a sturdy stool. Feeling okay? Abby sat up, yawning and stretching her arms over her head. Yeah better. I was worried when you passed out. You looked in pain at first, then your face went all calm. It was kind of eerie. Asil recalled Jack''s inner vision of holding her in that otherworldly void. The memory brought an unexpected wash of comfort as if his presence had truly guided her. She managed a small smile, brushing her hair back from her eyes. I feel great, honestly, Asil replied. Strangely enough, its like my bodys more fit than before. No soreness, no aches. Its hard to explain. Abby nodded, rubbing the last traces of sleep from her eyes. The stuff in those journals is crazyclasses, spells, all of it. I guess you picked Blade Dancer? II was too chicken to choose anything yet. Asil sank onto the edge of the bed, the soft lamplight illuminating her newly confident posture. Yeah. The moment I said yes, it was like someone shoved a lifetime of sword lessons and martial training into my head. It knocked me out cold for a bit. Abby offered a sympathetic nod, hugging her knees. Im just glad youre okay. This place is weird enough without someone having a meltdown. Thanks for staying with me, Asil said, giving Abbys shoulder a light squeeze. I appreciate it. The teen shrugged, cheeks a little pink under Asils gratitude. You were there for me when I was freaking out, so yeah. They shared a brief, companionable silence. Outside, the wind hissed through the fortresss stone corridors, creating a low, mournful whistle. Each flicker of the candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, reminding Asil how little she understood their current predicament. We should probably look around, Asil ventured, clearing her throat. Find out who else is here. Maybe we can figure out if anyone else from our group is nearby. Jack especially, she added, unable to hide the edge of worry in her voice. Abby nodded. I havent seen Fiona or my brothers, either. She paused, gazing at the oil lamps flickering light. I remember Geraldine said something about the master of this place. Maybe we can get more answers if we talk to whoevers in charge. Asil glanced at the nearly burnt-out embers in the fireplace. If we can do that without running into any trouble sure. But first, we could use more light and maybe some supplies. No sense going in blind. Her gaze fell to the small leather pouch still tied at her waist. She hadnt yet opened it since her transformation. Another wave of curiosity nagged at herwhat if her journal had changed, reflecting the new knowledge in her mind? Abbys eyes lit up when she noticed Asil glancing at her small leather pouch. WaitI remember something, Abby blurted, excitement creeping into her voice. Can you check if your journals in there? Asil, arching a curious eyebrow, reached inside the pouch. Sure enough, her fingers found the familiar leather-bound volume. Drawing it out, she held it up for Abbys inspection. Abby gave a faint smile and shook her head, pointing to a spot on the floor. Last night, after your whole class-selection episode, you dropped your journal. When I reached to pick it up, it vanished. Surprise flickered across Asils face. She flipped quickly through the pages of the journaleverything appeared normal. Satisfied, she snapped it shut and extended it toward Abby. Here, Asil said, take it. The teen gingerly accepted the book, holding it up to the candlelight. A puzzled expression flickered across her features. So it can stay with me as long as you let it Abby murmured. But how does that explain it disappearing when I picked it up on my own? An idea glimmered in Asils mind. She reached into her pouch again as if trying to retrieve something. Instantly, the journal vanished from Abbys hands, reappearing in Asils grasp as she drew it out of the pouch. Oh my god! Abby exclaimed, nearly dropping the unlit candle in her other hand. She jumped off the bed, heart racing. Eager to test this strange phenomenon, Abby lunged for the book without asking permission. Asil watched with keen interestjust before the girls fingers touched the cover, the journal blinked out of existence from Asils hands. A breath later, Asil tugged again on her pouchs opening, and the volume materialized there again. Good to know we cant lose these journals, Asil remarked, sliding hers securely back into the pouch. She eyed Abbys satchel. It must be bound to me somehowkind of like a personal inventory that only I can control. Abby shuddered a little, still amazed by the demonstration. Thats intense. And also kinda neat. Asil nodded, then glanced at where Abbys unclaimed journal peeked from her pouch. Do you want to select your class now? she offered gently. Abby hesitated. Her features darkened, and she looked around at the stone walls, the guttering candles, and the nearly burned-out fireplace. I dont think Im ready, she admitted, chewing her bottom lip. Everything here is way too real. Watching you collapse like that then seeing your whole transformation I She caught her breath, her eyes flicking around the makeshift sleeping quarters. To be honest, I didnt even want to come to this gaming thing in the first place. It sounded cool in theory, but now that Im actually experiencing it? I just want to go home. A pang of sympathy tightened Asils chest. She remembered how scared shed been waking up in this fortress, let alone discovering she had new powers. She slid an arm around Abbys shoulders and gave the teen a reassuring squeeze. I get it, Asil said, voice soft but firm. Its no small thingsuddenly having abilities you never asked for in a place thats this hostile. Or at least, unknown. Abbys shoulders relaxed, and she leaned into Asils side. Thanks, she whispered, grateful tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. I know Im not a kid, exactly, but all of this its scary. Youre allowed to be scared, Asil said gently. She gave Abbys arm a comforting pat. Well figure it out together. They lingered in silence for a moment, the warmth of their closeness offsetting the fortresss chill. At length, Asil drew a deep breath, her expression resolute. Lets gather whatever we can, she declared, pulling away just enough to meet Abbys eyes. And see if theres a safer way out of this tower. The last thing we need is to run headfirst into more surprises. Abby nodded, clearly steeling her nerves. Im with you, she said softly. Then, as if worried her voice might crack further, she cleared her throat. And Asil? Yeah? Abbys face colored slightly, but her gaze held earnestness. Im really glad youre up and moving. You, um you kinda give me courage. Asils heart twinged at that, a warm rush of protectiveness flooding her. Im glad to hear it, she murmured, giving the teen a supportive smile. Well figure this out, Abby, she repeated, voice gentle but laced with determination. No matter whats going on here. Together, they began rummaging through the roomcollecting any leftover candles, scanning for a half-decent cloak or spare blanket in the hopes of staving off the fortresss chill. Asils every step felt lighter than before, the echoes of her Blade Dancer abilities humming beneath her skin, reminding her she was no longer the same woman who had arrived. And Abby, while still unsure about choosing a class, found reassurance in Asils steady presence. Asil pulled open the heavy wooden door that led into the curved hall. At once, brilliant daylight from the narrow window spilled into the dim confines of the bedroom she and Abby shared. Its warmth and brightness made them squint momentarily, starkly contrasting to the flickering candlelight theyd grown used to. Looks like we really did sleep through the entire night, Asil remarked, blinking at the corridors glow. Abby followed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Yeah Geraldine must have let us rest. Shes, uh, surprisingly chill about everything. They left the guttered candles behind and walked back toward the kitchen, led by the smell of sizzling food and the clang of metal pots. Inside, Geraldine stood at a long wooden table, methodically kneading dough and overseeing a small cauldron of steaming porridge. Morning, lassies, she greeted, nodding without pausing her work. Reckon, you two got a fair bit of sleep after yesterdays fuss. Hope youre hungrytheres bread and porridge in the making. Both Asil and Abby offered mumbled greetings and brief, polite smiles. Asil could see that Abby was still anxious, though her expression had brightened at the thought of a meal. I let you sleep in, Geraldine continued, but now its time to lend a hand again. The boys are outside sparring, and theyll come in with appetites like starving wolves soon enough. At her words, Asil caught the distant metal clanging from somewhere beyond the large, arched door that opened into the courtyard. She recalled that door being securely shut last night, but now warm sunlight streamed through the opening. Curiosity piqued, Asil took a few steps closer and peered out, only half-listening as Geraldine offered aprons to Abby. Her attention was riveted on seeing several men training in the courtyardsome shirtless, some in rough tunics, all wielding blunt practice swords as they pivoted and thrust in synchronized patterns. Actually, maam, Asil said, still looking outside, if its all the same to you, Id like to see if they could use any help She caught herself, unsure how to phrase it without sounding presumptuous. Ive picked up a few new moves recently. Geraldine cast her a shrewd look but only chuckled in a good-natured way. Of course. If you fancy assisting a group of half-naked men first thing in the morning She gave a wink at Abby, who blushed in turnWell, you do you, lass. Abby felt her cheeks flush. The idea of marching out into a group of shirtless men made her want to shrink, though a small part of her was intrigued. Quietly, she accepted an apron from Geraldine, fiddling with the ties. Asil managed a smile. Their physique is the least of my concerns, she thought. The technique she glimpsed truly intrigued herthe wide stances, the overhead strikes, and the footwork. She could sense the fundamental underpinnings of each move, and some newly acquired part of her mind instantly evaluated their form. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Without another word, she stepped through the open doorway and into the courtyard. The sun felt glorious against her skina reminder that she was, in fact, awake in a living, breathing world, not a VR simulation with artificially generated light. Out in the courtyard, five men engaged in paired sparring. Four appeared to be in their early to mid-twenties, practicing in pairs, while a grizzled older man prowled among them, barking orders and critiques. Keep your wrists steady, boy! he hollered at one of the younger men. You want to lose fingers?! A smatter of metallic clinks rang out each time practice swords connected, and one of the menshirtless, sweat gleaming on his torsopaused the moment he noticed Asil. His lapse in attention earned him a sudden bop on the head from his sparring partner, who followed his line of sight and likewise faltered. One by one, the others turned their gazes toward Asil, bringing the entire practice session to a halt. Whats the matter with you, lot? the older man growled, spinning on his heel. You act like youve never seen a lass before! Asil felt a wave of self-consciousness crash over her. For a moment, she remembered how her appearance had changed after accepting the Blade Dancer classher hair slightly lighter, her eyes darker, her entire form subtly more graceful. Perhaps these men were startled to see a strange woman with such poise waltzing in. Sorry to interrupt, she offered, raising her hands almost apologetically. I was curious about your training I didnt mean to distract anyone. The tallest of the younger men, radiating a certain confidence, stepped forward, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He offered her a dimpled grin and extended his hand. Im Frederick, he said, taking Asils fingers gently. Pleased to meet you. He lifted her hand for a polite kiss, like a chivalrous knight from an old story. Asil felt her cheeks warm slightly but managed to keep her composure. Asil, she returned, nodding her head. Then she glanced at the older man, whose attention remained fixed on her with curious suspicion. You training them? she asked, gesturing to the group. He snorted. Aye, if you can call it that. Theyre still green as grass. His eyes flicked over Asils unarmed figure. You here to watch, or do you fancy yourself a swordswoman? A flicker of amusement curled Asils lips. She mused a day ago, Id have laughed at the thought. But now, that alien knowledge lurking in her muscles yearned for a test. I might fancy it if youll let me borrow a blade, she said casually. One of the younger men let slip a snort of a laugh, which earned a whap on the head from the older man. A low murmur rippled among the younger men. Frederick raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. The older man folded his arms across his chest, bushy eyebrows knitting together. Lets see if you can handle a simple practice sword first, he grunted, motioning to a wooden rack by the courtyard wall. Asil strode over, scanning the blunt-edged practice weapons lined up. Each was crude, meant for training. Still, something inside her recognized the weight and balance of each blade. She picked one that felt right and then returned to the group. Well? the older man said, a hint of a challenge in his tone. Lets see your stance. Without hesitation, Asil slid her feet into a perfect guard stance, knees bent, spine aligned, the practice sword gripped in both hands at a diagonal angle across her body. The movement felt effortless like shed drilled it a thousand times. A flicker of surprise coursed through herMy body really knows this. The older mans eyebrows shot up, and two younger men exchanged wide-eyed looks. Frederick, who had introduced himself moments before, seemed incredibly impressed. Not bad, the instructor muttered, circling her with a critical eye. Whered you learn that? Asil hesitated, unsure how to answer. In my sleep, it was hardly convincing. Here and there, she finally said, which earned her a grunt that might have been grudging approval. Frederick, the instructor barked, pair up with Asil, was it? Lets see if she can hold her own. Frederick looked delighted, stepping forward with a practice sword of his own. If you insist. Around them, the other men gathered at a safe distance, obviously eager to see how this would play out. Asil inhaled deeply, adrenaline tingling along her spine. She steadied her grip, forcing herself to recall Blade Dancer fundamentalsfootwork, timing, center of gravity. I just hope I dont pass out again, she thought, steeling herself for the first exchange. Standing a few paces apart, Asil and Frederick eyed one another. The taller man began circling Asil, testing her reactions. Asil pivoted in place, matching his movement with a measured calm. She wasnt sure how she knew to do thisonly that her body felt poised for a fight, every muscle primed. Frederick tried a few feints, flicking his blunt blade in small arcs to gauge her reflexes. But Asil stood her ground, quietly observing the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the way his shoulders shifted, and even the swirl of dust around his feet as he moved. Behind him, she tracked the positions of the other four men, though they posed no immediate threat. I can see every opening, she thought, a tiny spark of pride igniting. And Ive only been a Blade Dancer for half a day? Amused, Frederick decided it was time to make his move. He quickly stepped forward, intending to tap her backside with the flat of his practice swordjust a lighthearted show of skill he assumed she couldnt dodge. Yet, before his blade even swung up, Asil blurred into motion. In one smooth movement, she knocked his sword aside so swiftly it flew from his hand to the ground and pressed her blunt blade gently against his throat. A hush fell over the courtyard. Fredericks eyes went wide in astonishment. One moment, hed planned a playful strike; the next, his weapon was on the dirt, and Asils practice sword hovered at his jugular. The late-morning sun glinted off her dark hair, catching the slight smile that curved her lips. Whoa Frederick exhaled, flashing a sheepish grin as he raised his hands in mock surrender. A moment later, the other three young men let out whoops of excitement and disbelief, scrambling forward with exclamations of: Whered you learn that?! Can you show me how?! Will you marry? Asils cheeks warmed, a mixture of embarrassment and pride. Even the older instructor, whose expression had been impassive, now betrayed a faint flicker of respect in his eyes. Hmph, he grunted, crossing his arms. Impressive. He didnt say it out loud, but the slight nod of his head told Asil hed seen all he needed to. As Frederick bent down to retrieve his fallen blade, the other men enthusiastically converged, peppering Asil with breathless questions. She was about to address them, but the older man stomped closer and raised his voice: TO-A ROUND! At once, the four younger men snapped into a straight line, standing at attention with their arms at their sides. Asil took a step back, startled by the sudden display of discipline. The older man walked a slow circle around Asil, his gaze coolly appraising her from head to toe. He seemed mildly bemused by her dressplain and not at all what one might expect on a warrior. Asil folded her arms, meeting his scrutiny with a steady gaze of her own. Im Loren Dourant, he said, at last, a note of authority coloring every syllable. I see youve met Frederick. He gestured to the tall man, then pointed further down the line. Thats Stewart, Martin, Baum, and the runt at the end is Clive. Each man gave Asil a nod or an awkward half-bow, still riding the thrill of her dazzling show of skill. Asil offered a graceful curtsy, remembering some gentler etiquette her mother had taught herthough she couldnt resist smiling at how out-of-place it felt in this martial courtyard. Asil, she repeated. Thank you for letting me join your trainingunannounced as I was. Loren sniffed, scanning her face as if searching for hidden motives. Trainings open to anyone who can hold a blade though I admit, you caught us off guard, he said in a low voice. That was no beginners move, lass. Asil glanced at Frederick, who was rubbing the back of his head with a wry grin. You were holding back on me, anyway, she teased lightly. But I appreciate that you didnt go straight for a knockout. Couldve, if Id had half a second, Frederick joked, though his cheeks colored. But I guess thats the pointyou didnt give me half a second. A small chorus of laughter rippled through the group. Asil relaxed a fraction, relieved they took her sudden victory with good humor rather than resentment. Meanwhile, Loren continued to watch her closely. Your stance, your speed Are you a mercenary? A soldiers daughter, perhaps? We dont get many swordswomen around here. Asil offered a faint shrug, scrambling for a credible answer. She couldnt exactly say I leveled up into Blade Dancer last night. Lets just say Ive had a crash course recently. Lorens eyebrows rose again, but he let it lie. Hm. Any friend of Geraldines is welcome in the yard, especially if you can show these pups a thing or two. He turned and barked, But you lazy whelps had better keep practicing, or Ill tan your hides. Stewart, Martin, Baum, and Clive gulped and returned to their pairs. Frederick lingered, fiddling with his practice sword, casting Asil an admiring glance. If youd like, he ventured softly, we could run some drills together. No need to hold back. Asil felt an unfamiliar thrill course through her musclesthis new knowledge from her Blade Dancer class practically sang at the idea of more sparring. Still, she tamped down her eagerness, remembering Abby inside the kitchen. Id love that, she replied carefully. But maybe in a bit. I should check in with the others first. Fredericks smile widened. Well, well be here. Loren grunted, stepping between them. Yes, yes, get on with it. Well be out here working until mid-morning. Join or watchyour choice. Then he turned his back, shouting orders again at Martin, who seemed to be fumbling a parry. Glancing around again, Asil took in the sprawling courtyardstone walls ringed with moss, a few wooden targets propped against the far ramparts, and a small rack of battered, real steel swords gleaming behind the practice blades. One day, she thought, I might test myself with steel instead of a blunt weapon. With a last nod to Frederick, she turned on her heel and headed back toward the large door connecting to the kitchen. Her heart still pounded with the rush of the fight, and a surge of confidence swelled inside her. This Blade Dancer power its real, and its mine. And for the first time since waking, she felt an undeniable sense of exhilaration. Asil turned on her heel, heading back to the kitchen with a bright grin etched across her face. The residual rush from her quick victory over Frederick still hummed through her veins. Midway across the courtyard, however, a piercing yelp from the open doorway stopped her. Her head snapped up, and she sprinted the rest of the way, heart lurching with sudden alarm. Inside the kitchen, she found Geraldine bent over Abby, kneeling, clutching her head with trembling hands. Tears trailed down the teenagers cheeks as she whimpered in pain. Oh dear, Geraldine said, looking back at Asil in concern. Youd best see to your friend, lass. Shes having some sort of spell. Asil rushed forward, gently taking Geraldines place at Abbys side. She pressed a hand to the girls back, leaning in close. Abby, hey, she said softly, her voice tight and worried. Whats wrong? Talk to me. Abby didnt speak; she simply lifted one hand and tapped frantically at her waist. It took Asil a second to realize Abby was indicating her pouch. Right, Asil muttered, comprehension dawning. She threw Geraldine a quick glance. I need to get her back upstairs. Could you manage things here? Geraldine nodded, stepping aside. Of course. Poor dear. Keep me updated if you need help. Trying to keep Abby steady, Asil guided her out of the kitchen and up the spiral staircase. Each step felt like it stretched a mile. Abbys ragged breathing, coupled with the low whimpers escaping her lips, made Asils chest tighten with dread. At last, they reached the bedroom. Asil helped Abby sit on the edge of the mattress, bracing an arm around her shoulders. Abbys breathing hitched a few times as though she was trying hard not to cry. Its okay, Asil murmured, brushing back the teens hair. Were here now. Take it slow. Abby grimaced and finally found her voice, though it was little more than a whisper. The the pages, she rasped, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. I keep seeing them in my headthe ones from my journal. Asil glanced down at Abbys leather pouch, recalling how the girl had yet to select a class and how the journals had already displayed some ominous messages for her. She tried undoing the clasp herself, but the latch wouldnt budge, as though sealed by an invisible lock. It wont open, Asil grunted, tugging harder. A rising sense of panic clawed at her. Why isnt it? Abby, face drained of color, managed to lift the pouch flap with shaky hands. The journal slid free and dropped lightly onto the bed. Asil inhaled sharply, reaching for the cursed tome as she thought of it. She flipped through its pages, noticing that Abby had circled each class optionjust as Asil had once done to read all the descriptions. But when she arrived at the final page of text, her heart nearly stopped:
Select a class or one will be selected for you. Select a class or one will be selected for you. Select a class or one will be selected for you. Select a class or one will be selected for you.
Four identical lines in a row, threatening in their repetition. Before Asil could even process the implications, a fifth line appeared in real-time, making her pulse pound:
Select a class or one will be selected for you.
Abby let out another anguished cry, hands flying to her temples. Its in my head! she wailed. The wordsI see them in my mind. Its like theyre screaming at me. Asil clenched her teeth, stroking Abbys back in a vain attempt to soothe her. She felt a surge of righteous anger rise up, directed at whatever malevolent force might be controlling this system. Stop it! she snarled under her breath. No sooner had she thought it than a sixth line scrawled across the page:
Select a class or one will be selected for you.
Abbys cry became a low sob, her entire body quaking. She slumped forward, forehead pressed against Asils shoulder. Okay, godsdammit, shell choose! Asil shouted, glaring toward the ceiling as if addressing the invisible powers behind this twisted magic. Let her be! For a moment, the room fell silent, save for Abbys ragged breathing. The final message continued to flicker on the page, threatening more lines if Abby delayed further. Asil hugged the girl closer, feeling fury and protectiveness mingle in her heart. She wasnt sure what was happeningwhether it was the journal, the worlds magic, or some unseen entitybut it was forcing Abbys hand most viciously. Abby managed to lift her tear-streaked face, eyes brimming with dread. II cant she began, voice shaking. I dont want to do this. Asils expression softened. Its going to be okay, she promised, though her own uncertainty gnawed at her. Well figure out the safest option. Ive got you. Holding Abbys gaze, she slowly turned back to the journal. The words seemed to glow on the page, waiting. Asil swallowed hard. A sense of inevitability settled over the roomAbby would have to pick or risk some terrifying consequence none of them understood. We choose, Asil repeated in a calmer tone, directing her words at the swirling magic she sensed behind the journals demands. Just give us a moment. She pulled Abby back into a protective embrace. The teen whimpered but nodded, clinging to Asil as though she were the only lifeline in a perilous storm. Outside, the fortress corridors remained eerily quiet, but within these stone walls, battle lines had been drawn in a very different warone for Abbys autonomy and safety. Shakily Abby recovered the quill from her pouch and circled Yes next to one of the classes. Chapter 5: We Have a Map? Jack jerked awake at a strange gurgling, sparks flickering around his right hand as he readied a reflexive spell. His eyes darted wildly around the small clearing, heart thudding until he realized the noise wasnt a threatit was his rumbling stomach. Heh guess breakfast times a thing here, too, he mumbled, sheepishly extinguishing the tiny arcs of electricity. He allowed himself a moment to take in his surroundings. No dream, he mused, remembering the surreal events of the previous dayhis new powers, the goblin fight, the miraculous healing. A grin tugged at his lips despite the early hour. Nearby, Petros lay curled up in a ball next to the remains of their cold campfire. He stirred at Jacks motion, then sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. Morning, Jack said, greeting the boy with a nod. Guess we need to eat even in a game world. Petros groaned, rubbing his grumbling belly. Unfortunately, yes. Wouldnt it be nice if we had instant rations or something? We might have to forage, Jack replied, pushing himself to his feet and stretching out the kinks from a night on hard ground. We cant count on random loot or freebies if this place runs anything like an actual MMO. Petros nodded, expression uncertain. Do you know whats safe to eat out here? Im not exactly a pro at identifying wild berries. Im not either, Jack admitted with a shrug. But hey, we can try to see if anything stands out. Worst case, maybe we find apples or something. They spent the next hour wandering the immediate vicinity, scanning bushes, peeking under low branches, prodding the ground for mushrooms, and carefully checking for fruit-bearing trees. They only found a few thorny shrubs and some unidentifiable leaves that Jack wasnt brave enough to taste. Man, why is it so much harder to find food in VR simulation? Jack muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. In games, you just open treasure chests full of random bread loaves or find apples lying around Petros snorted softly. Yeah, well, apparently, we have to earn it here. Maybe well stumble on a villageif were lucky. Finally, they abandoned the foraging mission, continuing down the dirt road, hoping to encounter a settlement or a more fruitful woodland. With stomachs still grumbling, they trudged on, occasionally scanning the roadside for anything edible. The sun rose higher, warming the path, and soon, theyd been walking for nearly an hour. Suddenly, Petros tensed, grabbing Jacks arm. A soft rustling emanated from the brush near the paths edge. Petros pressed a finger to his lips to signal silence. Jacks breath caught as he listened intently. Rustle rustle It came again, and both felt the tell-tale vibration at their pouchesthe journals alerted them. Without physically pulling them out, a familiar mental overlay flashed in Jacks mind:
Wild Boar Level 2 Wild Boar Level 2 Wild Boar Level 2 Wild Boar Level 3
Jack shot Petros a glance, sparks already crackling between the fingers of his left hand. Stay behind me, he whispered, pushing the boy backward with his right arm. Petros nodded, hands glowing with a faint golden aura as he immediately prepared to channel healing magic. He gulped, scanning the undergrowth nervously. Suddenly, a large boar exploded, tusks gleaming from the brush to their right. It charged straight for Jack with startling speed. Jack jolted back and nearly tripped over Petros, who had braced himself behind him. Look out! Jack barked. Petros reacted quickly, pressing into Jacks lower back to keep him upright. The boars tusk scraped across Jacks thigh as it careened past, leaving a bloody gash that flared with pain. Thanks to Petros''s support, Jack hissed but didnt lose his footing. The creature vanished into the brush on the opposite side of the road. Ow, thats deep, Jack groaned, grimacing at the hot sting. But Im goodjust dont let em flank us! No sooner had he spoken than three more boars burst out from the bushes, trampling the road in a swirl of dust and snarling squeals. Jack clenched his jaw, raising his sparking hand high. Time for a zap, bacon-breath! A sizzling lightning arc blasted from Jacks fingertips, searing the closest boar. The electricity chained to the second and then to the third in a dazzling display of crackling power. Meanwhile, Petros pressed a glowing palm against Jacks thigh, flooding the wound with golden healing energy. The cut mended almost instantly, and Jack felt fresh adrenaline course through him. A shared notification flashed in their minds:
Wild Boar Level 2 has died. Experience gained.
The other two boars, though still alive, collapsed in a momentary stun from the electrical shock. Jacks eyes narrowed as he prepared a Fire Rain spellbut a pained cry snapped his focus. He spun around just in time to see the first boar, the Level 3, slam into Petros from behind. The impact sent the boy sprawling face-first into the dirt. Petros! Jack snarled, heart pounding. The boar pinned Petros under its bulk, tusks digging at his clothes, preparing to gore him. Fury and fear surged through Jack. He pivoted swiftly, splitting his spells: with his left hand, he let loose the Fire Rain over the two stunned boars on the road, and with his right, he seized the back of the Level 3 boars head, unleashing a savage point-blank lightning strike into it. Eat sparks! Red and blue light flared in a flash of sizzling energy. The air filled with the stench of scorched hair and the squeal of dying animals. One after another, the boars fell with thuds and squeals that choked off into silence. A new flurry of notifications burst into Jacks mind:
Wild Boar Level 3 has died. Experience gained. Wild Boar Level 2 has died. Experience gained. Wild Boar Level 2 has died. Experience gained.
Panting from the effort, Jack crouched, hands braced on his knees. His ears rang, the metallic tang of ozone still tickling his nose. Then a muffled cry drew his attentionPetros, pinned under the enormous boars body. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Oh crap! Jack exclaimed, scrambling to yank the dead beast off the boy. Kid, you good? Petros pushed himself upright, coughing dust from his lungs. He gave Jack a shaky thumbs-up. Im yeah, Im okay, he managed, still wide-eyed from the near-mauling. Jack quickly checked Petros for wounds, relieved to find only minor scratches. He then glanced at his thigh, where the boars tusk had gouged him. Thanks to Petross swift healing, not even a scar remained. That was intense, Petros breathed, heart hammering. He slumped back onto the ground. But we took them all down! Jack collapsed beside the kid, propping himself on his elbows. Thats one word for it, he said, ruffling Petross hair. At least were aliveand I guess weve got breakfast now if we can carve it up. Like clockwork, Jacks journal thrummed with an alert:
Loot Wild Boar Level 2? Yes / No Loot Wild Boar Level 2? Yes / No Loot Wild Boar Level 2? Yes / No Loot Wild Boar Level 3? Yes / No
Hell yeah, he muttered, circling Yes for each. The book responded:
You have received 10 copper coins, ruined boar skin, cooked boar meat. You have received 10 copper coins, ruined boar skin, cooked boar meat. You have received 10 copper coins, boar skin, raw boar meat. You have received 12 copper coins, boar skin, raw boar meat.
Petros mirrored Jacks actions, eyes widening at his own haul. Each rummaged in his pouch, feeling odd lumps and objects that shouldnt logically fit. Jack produced a 10-ounce slab of fully cooked boar meat, still steaming and surprisingly appetizing. Petros did the same, and the two exchanged a stunned look. It even comes cooked, Petros marveled. Thats unbelievably convenient. May have been from my fire rain on the two stunned, Jack remarked. Minecraft rules, Petros replied, nodding his approval. Jack didnt hesitate. He tore into the meat with relish, moaning as the juicy flavor hit his tongue. Petros followed suit, devouring the steak with equal enthusiasm. Silence reigned for a few blissful minutes while they stuffed their faces, each chunk of tender boar melting in their mouths. Oh man, thats good, Jack gasped around a bite, eyes half-lidded in contentment. Still not sure how all this works, but Im not complaining. Petros swallowed, then grinned. I feel like I could battle a dragon now, he joked, though his voice still held a tinge of post-battle shakiness. Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a satisfied groan. Id settle for a break, kid. Lets breathe for a minute before we walk into the next ambush. They shared a worn-out laugh, relief filling the morning air like a gentle breeze. But even as they savored their hard-won meal, neither forgot how close a call it had beenand how dangerous this world was. With their stomachs fullalbeit a bit thirstyJack and Petros resumed their journey along the well-worn dirt path. Now that the morning chill had given way to gentle warmth, the trail felt far less hostile than the night before. For a while, they ambled on in silence, each lost in thoughts of what might lie ahead. At last, the narrow lane merged onto a much wider roadits hard-packed gravel deeply rutted, a testament to countless wagon wheels. Jack noted that the road was broad enough that two compact cars could have passed each other with room to spare. So I guess this is the main highway? Petros ventured, shielding his eyes from the sun as he peered down both directions. Front and center, an old wooden post stood at the junctionseveral rectangular signboards jutted from the post, each tapering to a pointed end. Most looked faded and worn, the lettering bleached by sun and rain, but a couple appeared more recently maintained. POIsPoints of Interest, Jack mused, pointing at the readable signs. We got Fort Harjil and Dark Woods that-a-way. He angled his finger to the right, then swung it to the left. And Pendle Village and Ciames Road going the other direction. Though theyre written in some weird script, my brains translating them into English. Petros leaned in, squinting at the signage. Yeah, my eyes see something else, but my mind immediately converts it. He ran a finger along the letters. Guess thats part of the game mechanic, huh? Probably, Jack replied with a shrug. As cool as Dark Woods sounds, Im not up for a total horror show yet. Petross wide eyes confirmed his agreement. That place sounds like wed need to be at a much higher. So left it is, Jack said with a smirk, Pendle Village might have food suppliesor I dunno, a change of clothes. He glanced down at his ragged shirt and muddy pants, wincing. Yeah, definitely need clothes. Petros grinned. Same. I could use a pair of boots that arent half coming apart. Just then, both of them felt an unmistakable buzz from their journals. They shot each other a look before fishing them out. Jack read the sudden text that formed on the page:
Area uncovered. Map updated.
Map? he repeated, cocking an eyebrow. We had a map? Almost in response, new words scrolled across the parchment:
See back of journal for area map.
Curiosity sparked, Jack flipped to the back of his journal. Sure enough, a folded parchment was affixed to the final page. He gently tore it free. Unfolding it revealed a largely blank maptiny sketched trees, a thin trail, and a more prominent road crossing each other in the middle. Two green dots glowed at the crossroads. Petros whistled softly, clearly examining the same. Thats us, right? he asked, tapping his own open journal. Look, theres the signpost drawn in miniature. Pretty slick, Jack said. It even shows were at the intersectionhey, check this out. A yellow dot popped up on the map, lurking off to the right, presumably near Fort Harjil or the Dark Woods. Jack felt a ripple of tension. He and Petros shared a glance, then turned their gazes down the road. At first, there was nothing but the sunlit bend. But moments later, the clip-clop of hooves reached their ears, and a horse-drawn wagon trundled into view. Uh, Petros murmured, taking a half-step behind Jack, what do we do? Jack swallowed, raising his chin. We stand our ground, kid, he whispered, though the stranger was still too distant to hear. Keep your guard up, just in case. Petros nodded. His fingers glowed with a faint blue aura, a quiet preparation for summoning his Spirit Guardian if needed. On the other hand, Jack let his arms hang at his sides. He knew he could conjure fire or lightning in the blink of an eye if push came to shove. As the wagon neared, they could see the portly gentleman at the reins. He wore a tattered, wide-brimmed hat that looked halfway between a cowboy hat and a lopsided sombrero, covering thick brown hair streaked with gray. A wild, bushy beard framed his rosy cheeks. He was humming a jolly tune, the melody carrying on the breeze. Something about his relaxed demeanor and lively singing immediately put Jack and Petros at ease. Stoln, stoln! the stranger called out to his horses as he yanked back on the reins. The wagon jerked to a halt with a clatter of wheels and a final thump of hooves. He craned his neck to look at the two travelers. A broad grin split his bearded face. Well, well! he boomed, his tone hearty. Fancy meetin folks at the crossroads this early. Good morning to ya! Jack exchanged a glance with Petros, then took a step forward, ignoring the leftover twinge of adrenaline in his veins. Morning! he called back, trying to sound casual but keeping a healthy dose of caution in his posture. Didnt expect to see many travelers out here. The large man guffawed, patting his ample belly. Havent you heard? Fort Harjils been a hub of trade these past weeksthough Im sure theyll be less chatty with that blasted Dark Woods creeping so close. He motioned toward the signpost with an exaggerated arm wave, then shifted in his seat, turning to rummage through the sacks behind him. Petros studied the wagon. It was piled high with barrels, crates, and what looked like spare wagon parts rattling in the back. A single sizeable wooden chest jutted near the front, locked with iron bands. The horsestwo sturdy brown maresflicked their tails, seemingly unbothered by the newcomers. Names Barrow, the man announced, tipping his battered hat. A humble merchant, at yer service. He squinted at Jack and Petros. You folks look well, youve seen better days, Ill wager. Jack couldnt help a half-laugh, glancing at his threadbare attire. Yeah, thats fair. Weve been, uh, traveling. Not exactly flush with gear. Barrows eyes danced with curiosity. Traveling from where, might I ask? Long story, Jack replied, unwilling to give up too much. We were heading to Pendle Village. I thought we could get supplies and maybe decent clothes. Dont suppose youre heading that way? Barrow studied them momentarily, his jovial smile never leaving his face. Could be, he finally said. Pendles a good place to hawk my wares. Let me guess: youre looking for a lift? Jack and Petros exchanged hopeful looks. Well, we can pay, Petros ventured, patting the coin pouch at his hip. It might not be enough for a fortune, but weve got some coppers. Coppers, eh? Barrow let out a hearty chuckle. I trade in coppers and in a good story, so youre welcome to hitch a ride. Plenty o room in the back, if you dont mind crates for chairs! Petross face lit up, relief evident in his eyes. Jack felt the tension drain from his shouldersriding in a wagon beat trudging along the road on foot, significantly if it cut down on the chance of random boar attacks. Deal, Jack said, stepping closer. He extended a hand to the merchant. Im Jack, this is Petros. We appreciate it. Barrow clasped Jacks hand in a firm shake that rattled his arm. Welcome aboard, Jack n Petros. Now hop on, fore the day grows old. Well see about gettin you to Pendle in one pieceand maybe Ill treat ya to a tune or two along the way. The merchants booming laugh echoed off the trees, and despite themselves, Jack and Petros found their spirits lifting. Sure, they were in a strange, dangerous land, but if there was one thing theyd learned, it was that any allyhowever eccentriccould be a godsend in a world with no save points. Chapter 6: A Bastion Against the Dark Out of curiosity, Asil ventured softly, watching Geraldine place a tray of food on the bedside table, could you tell us more about where we are? The older woman offered Asil a kind smile before glancing at Abby, who lay motionless on the bed. Since the teen had finally chosen her class and succumbed to an uneasy slumber, she hadnt stirred once. No tremors, no criesjust a deep, concerning stillness. Were in Fort Harjil, my dear, Geraldine replied, her voice gentle, as though she worried even its vibration might disturb Abbys fragile rest. One of the last functioning strongholds on the border of the Dark Woods. A faint crease formed on Asils brow. Dark Woods? The name alone conjured images of an ancient forest teeming with nightmarish creaturesno doubt dangerous if the fortress was there to guard against it. She had spent the better part of the day at Abbys bedside, hardly touching the meals Geraldine brought. The tray of stew and bread now grew cold, and Abbys portion remained untouched. We appreciate the kindness youve shown us, Asil murmured, half to Geraldine, half to herself. I just wish I knew how we got here or why. Geraldines expression softened. Its no trouble at all, dear. And theres time to figure out those mysteries once your friend is stronger. She drew a wooden stool closer to the bedside and sat, folding her hands in her lap. Asil sensed this was the moment the older woman had been waiting fora chance to illuminate the fortresss secrets. Geraldine explained that Fort Harjil was once one of several imposing bastions forming a defensive line against a region known as the Dark Woodsan ominous, sprawling forest said to be the final barrier between the civilized lands and the corrupted domains of an ancient enemy. A few hundred years back, Geraldine began, her tone quiet but resolute, the Dark Lord and his demon hordes surged forth from those woods. They nearly overran the Kingdom of Durvant. The war raged, cruel and bitter, for many years. Asil sat straighter, her nerves on edge. She could practically envision a mass of infernal creatures marching beneath twisted trees. So the kingdom managed to fend them off? she prompted gently. Geraldine nodded a flicker of pride in her eyes. Aye. It was a bloody victory, but the Dark Lord was banished, and his armies scattered. Durvants forces pushed them back beyond the Dark Woods at a terrible cost. In the aftermath, these forts were built along the forest perimeter to keep watchFort Harjil and a handful of others, each tasked with detecting demonic stragglers still roaming the wilds. She sighed softly, the corners of her mouth turning downward. Of course, decades became centuries, and the demon sightings all but vanished. The kingdoms attention drifted elsewhere. Resources dwindled. Soldiers were reassigned. Now, only a few devout families remain to garrison these once-proud strongholds. Their purpose is kept alive more by tradition than necessity. Asil glanced around the modest chamber, taking in the bare stone walls and the single battered trunk at the foot of the bed. Through the windows narrow slit, she glimpsed the fortress courtyard belowwhere recruits honed their swordsmanship, primarily teenage boys like Frederick. So its basically a skeleton crew, Asil deduced. Yet youre still here, on the off chance demons resurface? Geraldine acknowledged this with a tilt of her head. Yes. My husband, Loren Dourant, oversees Fort Harjil. Its been his familys duty for generations. His brother, Bonvil, travels the kingdom seeking funds and new recruits, trying to revive the cause. Sometimes folk call us relics, but we see ourselves as guardians of a legacy. Geraldine looked fondly at a miniature portrait propped against the wallan older painting of two men, strongly resembling Loren but younger, each brandishing a sword before an imposing fortress gate. Loren and Bonvil inherited this responsibility from their father, who inherited it from his father, and so on. We once kept two hundred soldiers here. Now She trailed off, pressing her lips thin. Lets just say we manage with the few who remain. Recruits like Frederick, Asil offered. She recalled the young man from her earlier spar and how he and his fellow trainees looked barely older than Abby. Exactly, Geraldine said with a wry smile. Poor boy. He and the other lads are mostly orphans Loren took in, plus Frederick, Bonvils son. They form the ragtag band that still trains daily, more out of duty than any looming war. Asils gaze traveled back to the bed, her heart constricting at the sight of Abbys pale face. You mentioned we were found. In the Dark Woods? Geraldine nodded. Yes. Loren and some of the men were conducting a routine patrol at the forests edge. They saw you both collapsed on a small path. You seemed unharmedjust unconscious. They suspected you mightve been travelers attacked by stray beasts or something darker. But there wasnt a scratch on you. Asil shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. The idea of being discovered in such a place, powerless and alone, filled her with dread. We werent traveling together; thats the strange part, she murmured. I mean, Abby is from the same group I came in withback in our worldbut we got separated. Then we ended up here. Everythings so She rubbed her temples, the memory of that bizarre VR-like test swirling in her mind. Blurry. Geraldine set a reassuring hand on Asils arm. Try not to fret too much, dear. Youre safe here for now. Focus on resting, on helping your friend. She nodded pointedly at Abbys limp form. That childs going through something we cant understand. But shes in good hands with you. Asil swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a small, determined smile. Thank you. Truly. We dont know how long well stay, but were grateful. Youll stay as long as you need, Geraldine insisted. Though I daresay, once your friend wakes, Loren will be eager to learn more about your fighting prowess. She looked knowingly at Asil, remembering the lightning-fast display that morning in the courtyard. Asil allowed herself a brief chuckle, recalling the stunned faces of Frederick and the other men. I guess I made a bit of a spectacle, she admitted. But then her voice darkened. Id rather not rely on that skill unless we have no other choice. Geraldine inclined her head in understanding. Fair enough. War or not, theres no sense in swinging a sword if you dont have to. Silence fell between them for a moment, the stone walls echoing faintly with distant sounds of hammers on metalperhaps the recruits practicing in the yard. Abby lay unmoving, her complexion slightly improved but still ashen. At least shes sleeping peacefully, Asil murmured. Better than my own experience when I first She stopped short, remembering how shed thrashed and felt that surge of martial knowledge. Blade Dancer, her mind whispered. Geraldine patted Asils shoulder, then stood, smoothing her apron. Ill give you two some quiet. If you need anything, you know where to find me. Once Geraldine departed, the room grew still. Asil ran a hand over her face, absorbing all shed learnedthis Fort Harjil, designed to defend against an ancient evil now forgotten. It was nearly abandoned, yet the few who stayed did so out of a profound sense of duty. Similar to how I suddenly feel bound to protect Abby, she reflected, glancing at the slumbering teen. Well figure out a way home, Asil whispered to Abby and herself. Or at least, well figure out something. But first, we will need to find our families. Asils mind wandered over to Jack. Somewhere down the hallway, the sound of metal striking metal continueda constant reminder that this fortress still readied itself for the unknown, even if the demonic threat was old and distant. Asil settled into a chair by the bed, resolved to watch Abby for as long as it took, heart, brimming with cautious hope in a place where hope seemed in short supply. A gentle tug on Asils arm roused her from a light doze. She blinked, realizing shed dozed off while sitting up, supporting Abbys head. Her eyes focused on the teen, who was smiling and stretching like someone whod just awoken from the best nap of her life. Youre awake! Asil exclaimed, relief pouring into her voice. She grasped Abbys arm gently. How are you feeling? You, uh slept for ages. Abby hopped off the bed and rolled her shoulders. Honestly? I feel great. Ive never been so nimble in my life. There was a note of wonder in her tone. She promptly proved her point by somersaulting across the roomonce, then twicethen shifting seamlessly into backflips that carried her past the old wooden table. Asils jaw dropped as Abby twisted in midair, narrowly missing the modest lamps and stacks of folded linens. Whoa, Asil breathed, marveling at the sheer precision Abby displayed. Youre going to break the furniture if youre not Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. But Abby wasnt done. She cartwheeled around the opposite corner, leaped off the wall in a fluid burst of parkour, and landed back on the bed with barely a whisper, sinking onto the mattress beside Asil. The beds flimsy frame didnt even creak under the weight of Abbys landing. Your class? Asil asked, though she already suspected the answer. Abby beamed though there was a flicker of unease beneath her smile. Shadow Dancer. She exhaled, letting some of her excitement fade. I was so worried about what itd do to melike, physically. I didnt want the pain you went through. And I never asked to be part of this beta test anyway. I wanted to stay home. Then we ended up in some Lord of the Rings knockoff. Asil nodded, sharing in Abbys frustration. I get it. Believe me. I didnt want you to suffer the weird meltdown I had when I picked Blade Dancer. Abby rubbed the back of her neck, her voice softening. I guess I lucked out. Instead of agony, I fell into a dreamlike training sequences in some action movie montage. One second I was sleeping, the next I was flipping and twisting like Ive done it my whole life. She shot Asil a sympathetic glance. Im sorry yours wasnt so smooth. Dont apologize, Asil said, reassuringly touching Abbys shoulder. Im just relieved you didnt have to go through that. And, well not gonna lie, Im kind of glad I did my meltdown before seeing how easy it could be, she joked with a wry grin. Abby matched her grin, eyes dancing with a new confidence. Its wild, Asil. A day ago, Id never have done a single cartwheel without face-planting. Now look at me. She gestured to the cleared space in the middle of the room. Eager to see the Shadow Dancer''s abilities in detail, Asil pulled out her journal and flipped back to the opening pages that listed each class. She ran her finger down the columns until she found the Shadow Dancer description, then began to read aloud: Shadow Meld: Blend into nearby shadows, gaining invisibility and movement speed Before Asil could finish, Abby vanished as though someone had switched off her visibility. A heartbeat later, she reappeared in the dark corner of the room where the oil lamps light didnt fully reacharms flung wide like a triumphant magician. Holy! Asil gasped, blinking at the abruptness of Abbys reappearance. Thats impressive. Abby gave a showy bow and bounced back over, footsteps nearly silent. Asil cleared her throat and continued reading: Backstab deals massive critical damage to an unaware target. She looked up, feeling a bit uneasy. Im guessing we wont test that one on me, thanks. Abby let out a playful snort. Yeah, no. Youre safe, I promise. Smiling despite the grim nature of a backstab ability, Asil continued scanning the text: Ebon Echo: Create an illusory double that confuses enemies and can perform coordinated attacks Her voice trailed off when she glanced up to see two Abbys standing on opposite sides of the room, each striking nearly identical poses. Asils eyes widened, and she almost dropped her journal. Oh my god, Asil muttered, pressing a hand to her mouth. The illusory double vanished in a flicker of smoky darkness, and Abby cartwheeled back to Asils side, giggling like shed performed a party trick. Wait til the boys get a load of you, Asil teased, giving Abbys arm a gentle poke. She recalled how Frederick and the others had watched her own Blade Dancer moves with fascination. Theyre going to lose their minds seeing this. Abby blushed, though her eyes gleamed with pride. I just hope I can control it in a real fight. Dodging chairs is one thing, but Ive never had to handle, you know actual enemies. Her voice grew quieter, the weight of reality pressing in. Asil set the journal aside and placed a comforting hand on Abbys shoulder. One step at a time, she said, her tone warm yet serious. We might be in some medieval fantasy world, but were still us. And well figure it out together. Abbys face reflected both excitement and trepidation. I guess its kinda cool terrifying, but cool. Especially since I never wanted to be here in the first place. At least now Im not helpless. Asil nodded, recalling her sense of empowerment after mastering even the basics of her Blade Dancer stance. Exactly. If we must be stuck here, we might as well give ourselves the best shot at staying alive. And if Shadow Dancer means you can vanish and double yourself, thats a big advantage. All I need now is a sweet cloak, Abby joked, tugging at the hem of her rumpled tunic. Maybe some black leather armor or something? Gotta embrace the vibe. They shared a laugh, the atmosphere in the cramped room lightening. Despite the uncertainties of this strange realm, the two of them now carried formidable abilitiesand a renewed sense of hope. Asil felt genuine relief seeing Abbys easy grin, a stark contrast to the pain and fear of the day before. Still, Asil added after a beat, lets not start flipping off any castle towers. Id like us both in one piece. Abby raised her hands in mock surrender. Hey, no promises, she teased, though her eyes sparkled with the mischief of someone whod just discovered a world of possibilities. The courtyard was already alive with the clatter of wooden practice swords and the low rumble of mens banter when Asil and Abby stepped outside. Four muscular young men, stripped to the waist under the rising sun, turned almost in unison at the womens approach. In their eagerness to greet the newcomers, two tripped over each others feet, stumbling to regain composure. Frederick, the oldest of the group and seemingly their ringleader, deftly sidestepped his clumsier comrades. He moved in smoothly, aiming to take Asils hand in a gallant gesture. Morning, princess, he said with a roguish grin, reaching for her fingers. But Asil had grown more confident around this crowd. Instead of offering her hand, she slipped both behind her back, giving a polite but firm sidestep that left Frederick momentarily blinking. Abby, standing beside her, stifled a giggle at his flustered expression. Excuse me, Asil murmured, her tone courteous. Then she angled away to approach Loren Dourant, who stood near the courtyards periphery with arms folded across his chest, face set in an ever-present scowl. Frederick pivoted swiftly, pretending that Abby had been his real target all along. The younger teen, still basking in her newfound Shadow Dancer skills, blushed under the attention of four strapping young men. Their excited chatter and compliments on her acrobatic feats made her grin from ear to ear. Meanwhile, Loren regarded Asil with a gruff, measured stare. It was impossible to ignore how his biceps flexed beneath rolled-up sleevesthis man, though older, was formidable. Asil had come to appreciate that kind of silent authority in the short time shed been at Fort Harjil. Letting your boys socialize? she asked with a mischievous glint, watching the scene where Abby reveled in a flurry of greetings and wide-eyed admiration. Loren grunted. Slackers, the lot of em, he growled in that gravelly tone, though he made no move to interrupt. But aye, I suppose they can use the distraction. Sides the traveling merchant now and then, they rarely see new faces. You ladies have been good for morale. A corner of Asils mouth quirked in a smirk. Youre just saying that now that youve seen me, I can handle a sword. Lorens scowl deepenedthough Asil detected the faintest spark of amusement in his eyes. Not gonna lie, lass. Its a breath of fresh air having someone else with some skill, but lets not pat ourselves on the back too soon. He inclined his head toward her. This place isnt exactly brimming with Master Swordsmen. A few fancy moves can get you far here, but be careful. Overconfidence kills. Point taken, Asil said. She tilted her head, watching his stance. From what I can see, youre doing an admirable job molding these boys into men. I wouldnt mind testing my mettle er, my danceagainst yours. Lorens brow arched. You may be good, but dont get cocky. Dont mistake my eagerness for arrogance, Sir Dourant, Asil replied, this time with a respectful dip of her head. Her eyes flickered with genuine admiration. I want to see what I can do, but I hold no illusions of besting a veteran like you. Loren offered a curt nod, then uncrossed his arms. Thats a wiser attitude than most. Lets see what youre made of. He strode toward the weapon rack, a modest wooden frame supporting practice swordssome carved wood, others dulled steel. Without looking, Loren snatched one of the wooden blades and tossed another in Asils direction. She caught it quickly, feeling the weight, grip, and handle rough against her palm. A hush fell across the courtyard as word spread that Loren intended to spar with Asil. Frederick and his friends abandoned their playful flirtations, hurrying over to watch. Even Abby paused mid-somersault to see how Asil would fare against the fortresss seasoned instructor. Circle up, boysand girl, Loren barked, motioning them back. They formed a loose ring, giving the two combatants enough space. Asil squared her shoulders, inhaling to steady her pulse. This time, she didnt hold back the Blade Dancers stance shed grown comfortable with. Her muscles coiled, ready to explode into graceful motion. Lorens first swipes were almost casual, gently testing her reflexes. Yet each blow came faster than any Frederick had landed, forcing Asil to focus. She met each strike with a clean parry, the wooden swords clicking rapidly. A subtle ripple of approval flickered in Lorens stern gaze. Gradually, his blows came harder, his footwork more precise. Asils chest tightened with excitement as she realized he was stepping up to match her skill level. She countered one thrust with a glancing block, pivoted on her heel, and launched a quick feint that nearly nicked Lorens rib. Dont hold back, lass, Loren growled, eyes narrowing. Show me what that dance can really do. Taking him at his word, Asil leaned into her newly honed instincts. Her movements became smoother, almost rhythmiclike a choreographed routine. Each slash and parry flowed into the next, her feet light upon the dirt. The crowd of onlookers muttered in awe, especially Frederick, whod never seen Loren work this much to keep up. For his part, Loren kept his expression carefully neutral, but Asil could sense the subtle intensification of his attacks. His eyebrows were damp with sweat. Their blades whirred and cracked against each other in quick succession until Asil felt her stamina begin to flag. Finally, with a respectful nod, Asil bowed a few steps back, lowering her wooden sword. I concede, she panted, chest heaving. Youre beyond me. For now, anyway. Applause erupted from the sidelinesFrederick and his comrades clapped and cheered, peppering Asil with rapid-fire questions. Abby grinned, arms folded, pride shining in her eyes. Even Lorens stony visage relaxed a fraction, though he kept his arms folded to maintain his aloof aura. Enough gawking, Loren snapped. His voice cut through the courtyard chatter like a whip. Line up, all of you! The four young men instantly snapped to attention, Abby includedcaught off guard by Lorens sudden drill sergeant persona. Asil smirked, stepping out of the ring to let the master continue his training. With that, Loren turned to Asil, giving her a curt nod. If there was a compliment behind his silence, Asil supposed that was as close as shed get. Still, the slight lift of his brow hinted at a hushed respect. Asil slipped away from the courtyard, heart still thrumming with the adrenaline rush. She ignored the dryness in her mouthGeraldines bread and stew from earlier was a distant memory. Stopping at the door that led to the kitchens, she exhaled deeply, letting the tension dissolve from her limbs. I need better clothes, she thought, glancing down at the plain skirt and blouse shed been wearing for chores. It was high time she found a practical tunic, pants, and perhaps sturdy boots if she could manageno sense wearing housemaid attire when she might have to fight again. Before heading inside, she cast a glance over her shoulder. Abby flashed her a grin from across the courtyard, mid-conversation with Frederick and the other recruits. Asil gave a thumbs-up, silently grateful her friend had recovered so well from the class selection ordeal. All right, she murmured, stepping into the dim corridor. Time to get serious about this world and find the others. Abbys family and Jack drifted through her mind, kindling a fresh spark of determination. She would train, gather information, and do whatever it took to reunite her scattered companions and safely bring them home if there was a way back. And if there wasnt? Shed carve out a place for them here. Chapter 7: Welcome to Pendle Propped against the rickety wooden sides of Barrows cart, Jack folded his arms behind his head, trying to look nonchalant. Dust rose in lazy puffs where the wagons wheels hit rocky bumps, and a breeze carried the scent of wild grass that swayed along the dirt path. Despite the rustic viewand the quaint, medieval vibeJack remained convinced this was just a top-of-the-line VR environment. If theyre going for next-level realism, he remarked, squinting at the horizon, they nailed the dust factor. I can practically feel it in my nose. Beside him, Petros shifted, re-snugging the strap of his pouch. No kidding. My eyes keep watering like Im actually here. I cant decide if I love the immersion or hate that I cant turn off the dust texture setting. From the drivers seat, Barrow let out a hearty hum, flicking the reins at his pair of sturdy horses. The afternoon sun bathed them all in a gentle glow, turning the passing meadows into a tapestry of gold and green. For the hundredth time, Jack tried to spot a render glitch or some hidden VR hardwareanything that might reveal the simulations secrets. He found none. Petros, fiddling with his small leather satchel, had an excited gleam in his eye. Hey, we gotta talk about these pouches again, he said, lowering his voice as though confiding a cherished discovery. We have a real-life well, VR-life bag of holding. I cant believe the devs coded something so advanced. Totally, Jack agreed, tapping his pouch. Infinite inventory with item recognition. Man, the devs must be ex-Blizzard or something because this system is insane. They tested their theory anew. Petros withdrew a cooked boar steak and then put it back. Jack produced a bundled boar hide, only to slip it back in moments later. The bag responded perfectly to their intentions, delivering or removing objects without a hitch. Meanwhile, Barrow continued driving, seemingly oblivious to their hushed enthusiasm. Id kill for a mini-map, though, Jack added, peering at the dusty road. Or a quest log. Petros snickered. We do have a map in our journals. But its not exactly a giant floating HUD. They next turned their attention to the leather-bound journals in their lapsmysterious tomes that had defined their gaming experience. That morning, theyd tested a bizarre fail-safe: the journals would vanish the instant someone else tried to keep them. Petros wryly remembered when Jack tossed his journal off the side of the cart, only for it to reappear inside Petross pouch once the wagon rolled on. Dude, Petros muttered, shooting Jack a mild glare. Dont throw my stuff off a moving wagon again. I dont care if its part of the system. Jack smirked. I swear, if your journal hadnt teleported back, Id have hopped out and grabbed it. Petros rolled his eyes but couldnt hide a grin. Sure, sure. Just wait until I throw your precious tome onto a dev-coded ravine and see if it reappears. A thought struck Jack: hed looted a mysterious item from the goblins a few days back. Driven by curiosity, he concentrated on retrieving it. He felt a solid shape form under his fingertips within the intangible space of the pouch and pulled out a small, worn book with a gilded clasp. Oh, right, he murmured, turning it over. I forgot about this. Some kind of Spell Tome or something. Petros leaned closer, brow furrowing. One of the goblins dropped that? Talk about random loot. Jack traced his fingers over archaic runes etched into the leather. His minds translation abilitywhatever the devs had programmedhelped him read the gold filigree title: Spell Tome: Fire armor. As if on cue, Jacks journal buzzed. He set the tome aside and flipped open the journals pages, scanning a fresh block of text:
Spell Tome, Fire Armor. When read, grants the ability to conjure a cloak of fire that shields from damage and harms melee attackers for 60 seconds. Requirement: Elemental Mage, Level 5. You lack the requirements to use this tome.
Jack let out a low whistle. So its basically a new skill. But I need to grind some levels first. Petros nodded, eyes wide. Imagine a cloak of literal fire! Thats, like, top-tier mage stuff. Guess the devs dont want you OP right away. Jack set the spell tome on his lap, half-convinced the entire Fire Cloak concept was a carefully curated endgame skill. Well, guess Ill stash it. Might come in handy once Im level five. On a whim, Jack mused aloud, Wonder if we can see character sheets in this VR. The menu systems not exactly standard. He hardly finished speaking before the journal inked fresh lines:
Human: Jack Hart Class: Elementalist Level: 2 Concept: Specializes in the raw forces of naturefire, ice, lightning, earth, wind. Playstyle: High damage, AoE attacks; vulnerable if rushed. Signature Abilities: - Firestorm (Level 1): Call down a localized rain of fire. Cooldown: 0 seconds. Low mana consumption. - Chain Lightning (Level 1): Electrify multiple foes at once. Cooldown: 0 seconds. Low mana consumption. - Earth Shatter (Level 1): Splits the ground, sending shockwaves. Cooldown: 60 seconds. Medium mana consumption.
Petross jaw dropped slightly, pointing at the zero-second cooldowns. Is that even balanced? You can chain lightning non-stop? Jacks grin spread wide. Yep, baby. Real-time spam. The devs obviously didnt factor in, you know, fairness. However, the mana usage makes up for that, spamming the abilities will eat away at my magic; we will need to be strategic in a battle and not just blindly toss at spells. Petros silently nodded at that realization, remembering his unusual exhaustion after bringing Jack back from near-death injuries during the goblin attack. Despite his excitement, he glanced quizzically at the carts interior. But man, if this is truly a VR sim, its nuts how real everything feels. Even the flavor of that boar steak was off the charts. No aftertaste of pixels or whatever. Petros shrugged, half-lost in reading his stats. Maybe they designed some new neural interface technology. Hyper-advanced. Thats gotta be it. I could do away with the all to real feeling pain though, or atleast some control on the intensity. That is why this is a beta test, Jack shrugged, We will have to note this to the devs when they pull us out. Ahead of them, Barrow cleared his throat. Pendle Village soon, lads. Theres a warm meal, a decent bed, and maybe some trade to be had if you need gear or fresh clothes. Thanks, man, Jack called, eyeing the rolling fields where farmhouses dotted the landscape. They seemed so genuine. If this was all code, the devs had truly outdone themselves. We could use a break. Petros ensured his journal was secure in its pouch, then frowned thoughtfully. Think theyll have potions or spells we can buy? Typical MMO shops, maybe? Jack couldnt help but laugh. If so, Im definitely snagging some new threads. I feel like a medieval peasant in these ragged clothes. A contemplative hush settled over them, broken only by the clop of horses and Barrows continued hum. A swirl of gentle wind fluttered through the cart, lifting a few stray pages in Jacks open journal. He clamped it shut, taking in the rolling hills that sloped down to a modest cluster of timbered buildings in the distance. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. He mused that these devs are gaming gods, or they blew their entire budget on next-gen VR illusions. Because if I didnt know better He left the thought unfinished. There was no reason to doubt hed eventually find a UI panel or a log-out prompt. Right? Warm afternoon light streamed across the wagon, and as the trio ventured onward, signs of civilization began to emerge like distant waypoints. First came a pair of weathered barns, long deserted and sagging into the earth, then a scattering of farmsteads that gradually drew closer together. The fields shrank in scope, replaced by small clusters of tilled land and tidy gardens. Jack perched on one side of the cart, leaning out to take in the shifting landscape, while Petros clung to the opposite side, entranced by the sight of tendril-like vines wrapping old fences. The farmlands bustlefarmers in straw hats herding goats, a stray dog nosing about the roadsidegave the place a cozy welcome. Eventually, they passed beneath a robust wooden archway that might once have supported gates. Now, it stood half-open, the hinges lost to time and neglect. Beyond it lay Pendle Village, its timbered houses and cobbled alleys reminiscent of an old-world ren fair. The wagons wheels transitioned from dusty earth to uneven stones, clacking loudly in the village square. Huh, Jack mused, eyes flicking around the crowded center. They really went all out with everything. It feels so authentic, Petros agreed, voice low with awe. The center of Pendle bustled with a scattering of market stalls, and villagers gathered around a communal well. Barrow guided the horses to a stop near a small fountain carved from pale stone. Before the wagon halted, a cluster of giggling children swarmed forward, vying for the treats and trinkets Barrow habitually doled out. While the children scrambled, a handful of townsfolk stepped out from shops or homes, waving at the returning merchant. Some wore linen aprons dusted with flour, others leather aprons spattered with soot or paint. Jack watched as Barrow hopped down from his seat, rummaged in a large crate, and produced a handful of wooden whistles for the kids. Its like the traveling merchant is the event of the season, Jack observed, smirking at the sight. Which makes sense, Petros said, shrugging. Hes got to be more interesting than watching crops grow day in, day out. Settling in the Village, Barrow turned and waved the pair over. Right, you two! This is Pendle, heart of the farmland hereabouts. He gestured grandly at the quaint buildings arranged in a horseshoe around the square. Ill set up a stall here, sell me wares, share a few stories. Youre free to wander, see about clothes or provisionswhatever you need. Jack hopped off the cart, pressing a few copper coins into his palm. Here, for your trouble, he said, offering them up. We appreciate the ride, really. But Barrow waved the coins away with a broad grin. Not necessary. Didnt cost me a thing to help a couple of weary travelers. Sides, he added with a wink, you two look like you need every coin to replace those rags. Jack and Petros exchanged an embarrassed chuckle. Much obliged, Barrow, Petros said. We owe you one. Barrow clapped Jack on the shoulder. Thank me by sending folks my way once youre set up. Never hurts to spread the word. Looking around the town square, Jack spotted a modest shop topped by a painted sign: a wooden spool of thread suspended overhead. Petros pointed out the same. Must be our tailor, he said. No pun-based name, but lets hope they do decent work. They approached the storefront, where a thin older woman stood on the threshold, drawn out by the sound of Barrows arrival. Her keen eyes flicked from Jack to Petros with quiet curiosity. Came in with Barrow, did you? she asked, voice warm but businesslike. Jack gave a friendly nod. Yes, maam. We ran into some trouble on the road and lost most of our gear. Barrow was kind enough to give us a lift here to restock. The womans gaze took in their worn garmentsJacks cloak practically in tatters, Petross fraying shirt. With a slight hum of sympathy, she stepped back to let them enter the shop. Well, youve come to the right place. I can fix you up, but Ill need to see what youre offering in exchange. Her tone was gentle but firm. Were kind in Pendle, not foolish. Jack shared a glance with Petros, who produced a boar hide from his pouchpristine, thanks to the systems magic. Jack set a few coppers on the table as well. The womans brows rose at the quality of the hide. Which of you is the huntsman? she asked, running her hand appreciatively over the pelt. Jack forced a casual grin, careful not to break the immersion of the moment with an outlandish explanation. We had it from home, in case of trade, he said vaguely. Luckily, we kept it safe when everything else got lost. Her assessing look lingered, but she accepted the reasoning. In that case, I can do two sets of traveling pants and shirts, plus boots, for the hide and some of your coin. Ready by tomorrow morning. She measured them quicklyPetros fidgeting with mild embarrassment, Jack standing taller to appear more confident. The woman made short marks on a small ledger, then ushered them back outside with a brisk nod. Tomorrow, lads. Ill have something sturdy for you then. Petros exhaled once they were out. That was easier than I thought. Yeah, I half-expected a big quest to gather special threads or something, Jack joked. But apparently coinand a good hideworks just fine. Hunger and fatigue gnawed at them. Even for a single night, a bed sounded downright luxurious after sleeping on hard ground. They followed the sound of muffled laughter and clinking glasses, eventually stumbling upon a broad, weathered sign depicting a boars head and a mug of frothing ale: the Boar & Brew. Catchy name, Jack said, pushing open the tavern door. Feels appropriate. A wave of warm air enveloped themspiced meat on the spit, the tang of ale, and the hum of conversation. The interior was smaller than Jack expected, more like a large homes living area repurposed into a taproom. A handful of wooden tables, mismatched chairs, and a stone hearth crackling in the corner gave it a homey vibe. Only three patrons populated the place: two men at a table near the entrance engaged in a rowdy board gamecomplete with carved pieces that looked vaguely like knights and monstersand a lone figure slumped in a shadowy corner, an empty mug balanced precariously near his limp hand. Petros inhaled, shoulders relaxing. Oh man, that roasted meat smells incredible. Jack nodded in agreement. Im starving. He stepped up to the sturdy bar on one side of the room. The barkeep, a middle-aged fellow with a friendly grin, promptly stepped forward. Welcome to the Boar & Brew, he greeted, wiping his hands on a towel. What can I do for you lads? A meal, a bed, or both? Jack glanced around, noticing how the taverns dim light played across battered wooden beams overhead. Despite the small crowd, the mood was warm, a refuge from the dusty road. Petros lingered close, trying not to stare at the passed-out man in the corner, who mightve been the local drunk. Both, if youve got the room, Jack said, producing some coins. Well need dinner and a place to sleep for the night. The barkeep brightened. Right, you are. Weve got a pair of spare beds in the loftnothing fancy, but clean sheets, I promise. As Jack counted the necessary coppers, Petros watched the two men at the board game. They appeared deeply immersed in intricate rules, occasionally breaking into laughter or mild curses. Petros found himself oddly tempted to learn how to playanother sign he was sliding deeper into the worlds charm. Ill get you some stew and bread shortly, the barkeep said, nodding at their payment. Feel free to grab a table. The two travelers drifted toward a corner spot, setting their pouches down. Outside, the sun had nearly sunk below the horizon, painting the sky in purple and orange streaks. Inside, oil lanterns and the glow of the hearth illuminated the tavern in a comforting haze. I could get used to this, Petros whispered, eyes shining with an almost childlike excitement. Yeah, Jack agreed softly, a subtle grin tugging at his lips. You know we might as well enjoy it while were here. And so they resolved to lean wholly into the experiences this land had to offer, at least for the moment. If it was indeed a grand, immersive simulation, Jack couldnt deny it felt more real and inviting than any game hed ever played. A slender woman emerged from behind the taverns back door, steam curling around the edges of two heavy ceramic bowls balanced expertly in her arms. She set them on the table in front of Jack and Petros, along with two mugs. Jacks nostrils flared appreciatively at the rich, meaty aroma rising from the thick stew. Aw man, Petros grumbled, eyeing his mug, milk. He gave a dramatic sigh, slumping back with folded arms. Jack quirked a brow, chuckling softly at his companions displeasure. Just then, the barkeep wandered over, wiping down a neighboring table with a rag that might have seen cleaner days. Seizing an opportunity, Jack sat a bit straighter. Good sir, he said, adopting a somewhat formal tone. Petros glanced at him curiously but let it pass. Im Jack, and this here is my brother He hesitated for a heartbeat, then continued with a playful smile. Petros. The barkeep set aside his rag, extending a calloused hand. Aye, Im Trevor, and the lass back there is me daughter, Raven. He nodded toward the slender woman now rearranging bowls near the bar. Pleased to meet you both. Jack gripped Trevors hand in a firm shake. We, uh, had a run-in with some overzealous boars on the road, he explained. We ended up with a bit more meat than we can handle, and were looking to trade for provisions. Maybe some salted stuff thatll last us on the road and a few waterskins if you have em. Trevors eyes widened slightly as Jack and Petros each pulled out a couple of raw boar steakspristine, thanks to the boars theyd bested earlier. Petros placed them carefully on the table like trophies of a hard-fought hunt. Those are fine cuts, Trevor observed, stroking his chin. I can cure them myself, no trouble. As for provisions he gestured to some strips of salted meat hanging above the hearth, Ill gladly trade you a few days worth, plus a couple of waterskins. Fill em at the well in the square, no charge. Ill have it packed for you by morning. Jack flashed a relieved grin. Thank you. Thatd help a lot. They completed the exchange, and though it meant parting with some premium steaks, Jack rationalized thered likely be more chances to hunt or scavenge down the line. After all, the roadand whatever roamed itwas vast. With their bellies full from the hearty stewchunks of tender meat floating in a thick, savory brothJack and Petros leaned back, relishing the warmth that spread through their limbs. The tavern was cozy, if a bit cramped, but the low hum of conversation soothed their road-weary nerves. Suddenly, a sharp cry split the comfortable quiet: ALE! Both men jolted, startled by the drunkard who lurched upright in the taverns dim corner. The two fellows playing a board game near the door shot him a glare. Shut yer gob, old man, one of them retorted, rolling his eyes. But the drunkard staggered to his feet, swaying like the ground was moving beneath him. A single ray of twilight from the nearby window fell across his unshaven face, revealing deeply etched lines and bloodshot eyes. Something about him tugged at Jacks memorylike a snippet of a half-forgotten dream. Ill have you know, the man started, voice slurring unevenly, that Im Im far more important than He never finished. Jack jolted so violently he nearly overturned his stool. Grabbing Petros by the sleeve, he hissed in a low, urgent whisper. Oh oh, crap! Petros, do you see him? Petross eyes darted from Jack to the drunkard and back again. What? Why? You know him? Jacks heartbeat thundered in his chest as he stared at the disheveled figure. Thats Gondel. Gondel the High Wizard from ER3. Hed seen that distinctive droop around the eyes, the arch of the nose, countless times in splash art or cutscenes from his favorite single-player RPG. But hereswathed in threadbare robes, stinking of ale, and glaring blearily around the tavernit was an image so jarringly real that Jack felt momentarily dizzy. Chapter 8: Dark Woods are no place to linger Over the next several days, Fort Harjil settled into a comfortable rhythm. Each dawn found Asil awake, waiting in the courtyard with her practice sword. Shed convinced Loren Dourantgrizzled veteran and master of the fortto train her as rigorously as he would any of his recruits. With her Blade Dancer talents, Asil soaked up techniques and nuance faster than anyone Loren had ever seen, though he kept his usual scowl firmly in place to hide his growing admiration. Footwork, lass, Loren barked one early morning, gesturing with a blunt wooden sword toward her stance. Your pivots half a breath too slow. Again. Asil merely nodded, focusing on the slight shift in her weight. She glided across the dusty ground, countering each of Lorens swipes with a controlled movement that almost resembled a dance. The younger menFrederick, Stewart, Martin, Baum, and Cliveoften halted their own drills to gape at how swiftly she picked up Lorens most complex maneuvers. By the end of each session, sweat glistened on Asils brow, yet an excited spark burned in her eyes. Come midday, Abby would join the others in practice, though her hours were split between the courtyard and the kitchen. In the mornings, she helped GeraldineLorens wifeknead dough or stir stew in the large stone hearth. Her newfound Shadow Dancer agility helped her navigate the bustling kitchen without tripping over pots. In the afternoons, she joined the recruits for a few basic drills, impressing them with her unexpected quickness. More than once, she left Frederick sputtering in disbelief when she vanished into a corners shadow mid-spar, reappearing a moment later behind his shoulder. When the sun dipped behind the fortress walls in the evenings, Asil and Loren would practice one-on-one. He would finish overseeing the mens group drills, clap them off to chores or mess duty, and then take Asil aside for a final hour of intense sparring. Abby, exhausted from her half-day in the courtyard, sometimes watched from a stone bench, a bowl of stew in her lap. After Loren retired for the night, Asil wasnt finished. She would slip away to an unoccupied corner of the courtyard or even the ramparts overlooking the Dark Woodswhere faint moonlight revealed the haunting silhouette of twisted trees. There, she practiced footwork and sword arcs in fluid, choreographed loops, her blade tracing silent patterns through the cool night air. The soft scrape of metal on stone became the lullaby that guided her to bed. About five days into this new routine, an older woman arrived at Fort Harjils gates. Her name was Matilda Brecka local villager from a settlement farther east, her hair pinned into a tight bun. She bore a solemn expression, wringing her hands as she spoke hurriedly with Geraldine near the fortress entrance. With her stood two wide-eyed children clutching small burlap sacks. Loren, Geraldine called gently, beckoning her husband. We have visitors. The boy, around nine, peered shyly from behind Matildas skirts, while the girl, perhaps twelve, stood a bit taller, trying to appear brave. They both wore simple linen clothes smudged with soot and travel dust. These two Matilda cleared her throat, voice trembling. Their parents died in a fire a fortnight ago. Neighbors, but I cant take care of them myself. No kin to be found, so I She trailed off, her gaze flicking around the courtyard. I knew your fort always took in orphans. A flicker of compassion crossed Lorens face, though his tone remained gruff. We can see they have a safe roof over their heads. What are their names? The boys eyes darted up nervously. Im Tobin, he said, voice barely above a whisper. His sister, slightly taller, shifted the small satchel in her arms. Im Serena, she added, summoning more confidence. We can work. Were not lazy. Loren exhaled, nodding toward Geraldine. We wont turn them away. Within an hour, Tobin and Serena settled into the fortress life. Geraldine and Abby showed them the small chamber off the kitchen where they could sleeptwo simple cots, a chest for clothes, and a lantern to ward off the gloom. The siblings eyed the stone walls warily at first, but the older womans gentle reassurance and Abbys bright smile eased their nerves. I can help with laundry, Serena offered, glancing at a basket of soiled tunics. I used to help Ma wash clothes by the river. Geraldine squeezed the girls shoulder in thanks. Well see to it. For now, rest. Its been a long journey. Meanwhile, Tobin gravitated to the courtyard, where Martin and Clive coaxed him into fetching arrows and sweeping up stray bits of practice debris. The boy watched the recruits spar with wide-eyed wonder, occasionally flinching whenever someone clashed swords with extra force. Still, by days end, he wore a tiny smile at being part of something bigger than just drifting from farm to farm. As the week wore on, the fortress found new routines forming around its latest arrivals. Abby, dividing her time between the kitchen and the training grounds, began giving reading and writing lessons to the siblings, whod had little formal education. Geraldine saw they had ample chores to keep their minds off their griefpeeling vegetables, carrying water, tidying the small storeroom. Youre good with them, Geraldine told Abby one afternoon, watching as she patiently guided Tobins hand over a scrap of parchment. You have a gentle way that calms them. Abby blushed at the praise, but she appreciated having a meaningful rolesomething aside from learning stances or chopping onions. Meanwhile, Asils swordsmanship advanced so quickly under Lorens tutelage that the older man occasionally let slip a hint of begrudging pride. Not half bad, hed grumble after a spar, wiping sweat from his forehead. Still a ways to go, mind you. Asil would merely grin, rotating her shoulder to ease the strain. She knew the scowling fortress master was pleased, deep down, that his teaching wasnt wasted on idle swords. And so, in the shadow of centuries-old stone walls, life carried on. Asil honed her Blade Dancer abilities with unwavering dedication, Abby balanced her new mentorship role with her own burgeoning Shadow Dancer skills, and two lost siblings found hope under the guardianship of the stern, proud few who kept watch over Fort Harjil. Yet, amid these daily rhythms, no one could forget the looming presence of the Dark Woods beyondand the unspoken fears that occasionally tempered the fortresss fragile peace. Asil blocked another of Lorens strikes under the midday sun, the wooden practice swords clacking in a rapid exchange that had become their norm these past few days. Each swing and counter made a hollow echo through the courtyard, drawing the attention of Clive, Baum, and a few recruits organizing gear nearby. All at once, the training session was interrupted by Martin and Stewart charging through the gates in a flurry of dust, limbs, and panicked shouts. Its Frederick we were ambushed he took them on so we could get away! Their voices tumbled over each other, breathless with terror. The boys nearly bowled into Asil and Loren, who immediately dropped their weapons. Abby, who had been helping Geraldine near the fort entrance, rushed over at the first mention of ambush. Hush, children, Loren said firmly, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. Despite his stern demeanor, genuine concern flickered in his eyes. One at a time. Martin gulped down air, chest heaving, while Stewart pressed both palms against his knees, trying to steady himself. At Lorens encouragement, Martin finally found enough composure to speak: We we were patrolling the edge of the Dark Woods, like you said. Heard someone cry out for help. He paused to wipe sweat from his brow. Frederick ran in first. We followed, but then thesethese things attacked us. They looked almost human, but not quite Stewart nodded vehemently, still too winded to form words. Martin swallowed, voice trembling: There were at least three of them, maybe four. Frederick fought them off and told us to run back for help. One slashed at him, but he cut its leg. Then he he yelled at us to go. A cloud passed over Lorens face, deepening the shadows across the courtyard. Dark Woods had been quiet for so long, yet here was undeniable proof of a lurking threat. Asil caught a glimpse of the fear in the older mans gaze, quickly replaced by cold resolve. Before Loren could formulate a plan, both Asil and Abby felt a familiar buzz at their hipsthose curious journals theyd grown reliant upon. They barely had time to register the vibration before words manifested in their minds eye:
New Quest: Rescue Frederick.
They didnt so much as glance at one another to confirm. Asil darted toward the armory door without hesitation, and Abby followed at her heels. Within seconds, they reemerged, Asil gripping a pair of real steel swords while Abby gathered a handful of daggers. Asil slid one sword into a scabbard strapped at her hip and tossed the other toward Loren. You cant keep me from this, Asil said, eyes flashing with determined fire. Lorens gaze flicked between Asil and Abby, then to the trembling Martin and Stewart. He clenched his jaw but recognized there was no stopping them. With a gruff nod, he accepted the blade from Asil, tension evident in the set of his shoulders. Fine, he muttered. But move quickly. Fredericks got a head start, and the Dark Woods are no place to linger. Martin and Stewart stood aside, relief mingling with lingering terror on their faces as Asil, Abby, and Loren slipped through the gates, the fortress behind them. The specter of a threat long thought dormant loomed in every gust of wind. They raced along the beaten path that cut through tall grass and wild brambles until the forest canopy began encroaching. The Dark Woods lived up to its name, the ancient trees twisting overhead, forming a nearly unbroken screen that filtered out the sun. Shadows clung to every trunk as though the forest itself recoiled from the light. I saw something move, Abby whispered at one point, halting briefly. Sure enough, there was a fleeting figure darting between twisted oaks, its shape inhumanly hunched. But before either woman or Loren could pursue, a faint cry echoed in the distancea mix of rage and desperation. Frederick, Loren growled, pressing onward. This way. They pressed deeper until they reached a small clearing ringed by trees whose branches clawed at the sky like bony hands. Three dark figures were hauling a bound and struggling Frederick deeper into the woods in that opening. There he is, Asil hissed, pointing. Fredericks muffled shouts carried faintly across the clearing. One of the larger figures had Frederick slung over its shoulder as though he weighed nothing. His arms and legs jerked in protest, but he was bound tight with coarse rope. Despite his attempts to wrench free, the creature continued onward, its companions forming a blockade between the rescuers and their prey. Another mental flicker: Asil and Abby both recognized the phantom text in their heads:
Minor Demon (Level 1) Minor Demon (Level 1)
Black nails glinted in a shaft of waning light, and one of the demons hissed a warning. Asils heart pounded a swirl of adrenaline and anger. These were no mere bandits. I will get Frederick, she said, her voice cutting through Lorens startled silence. Keep these two off my back. pointing her sword at the two demons; she barely spared time for Loren or Abby to respond. Veering left, Asil broke into a swift dash, skirting around a gnarled tree to outflank the demons. Hah! One demon snarled, turning to follow Asils movement. But Loren was already surging forward, sword raised. He slashed at the nearest minor demon, forcing it to peel back. Meanwhile, Abby let out a controlled exhale, seeming to vanish where the shadows pooled under a large tree. A heartbeat later, she rematerialized behind the second demon, plunging her dagger into its side in a rapid triple stab.
Critical strike on Minor Demon.
The note flashed in Abbys mind, but she had no time to dwell on it. The wounded demon howled, lashing out with talon-like nails. Abby danced backward, avoiding the slash by inches, heart thrumming with an electrifying mix of fear and exhilaration. All the while, Asil sprinted after the large demon carrying Frederick. She wove between thick trunks, each step guided by the Blade Dancer instincts that had sharpened under Lorens tutelage. The forest floor underfoot was slick with moss and fallen leaves, but Asils footing remained steady. She was acutely aware that each passing second put Frederick further from rescue. Back at the clearing, Loren clashed with the demon that had turned its claws on him, steel ringing out in the hush of the woods. Abby circled wide, looking for another opening to land a critical hit, shadows flickering across her face as she used her newly honed Shadow Dancer reflexes. Hurry, Loren shouted, glancing at where Asil had vanished. We cant let them disappear! The demon before him raked the air, narrowly missing Lorens arm. Sparks seemed to fly as blade and talons collided, the forest echoing with guttural snarls and grunts. For her part, Abby twisted aside from a barrage of flailing claws, rolling neatly behind a tree trunk to catch her breath. Her eyes darted toward the direction Asil had gone, hoping the woman would find Frederick before it was too late. Leaves rustled overhead, the canopy filtering light into dappled spots on the ground. Each flicker of movement made it hard to track the demons shifts. Fear throbbed in every heart, yet Abby, and Loren fought with steeled resolve. If they failed, Frederick would be lost to the horrors of the Dark Woodsif he wasnt already. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Asils breath came in quick, steady bursts as she slipped between moss-laden trunks, eyes fixed on the demon ahead. Thick undergrowth tugged at her ankles, yet each nimble step propelled her forward with surprising ease. She gave silent thanks for the extra stamina her class abilities seemed to grant; otherwise, she might have tired out long before catching up. She could see Frederick draped over the creatures shoulder, bound and squirming futilely. Spearing through the dense canopy, a trickle of sunlight flickered over his pale face. Gritting her teeth, Asil pressed harder, closing the gap at last. Time to act, she thought, heart pounding. She summoned Phantom Step, feeling a sudden rush of energy flare through her limbs. With a burst of impossible speed, she blinked forward, covering the last few yards in the blink of an eye. Before the demon could react, Asil slashed at its legsmindful not to endanger Fredericks battered form. The demon stumbled forward with a guttural snarl, Frederick tumbling from its grasp onto the leafy ground. Yet the monster didnt crash headlong as shed hoped. Instead, it hovered for a heartbeat, twisting midair in a disturbingly graceful move, and landed facing Asil with its clawed hands raised.
Minor Demon Level 2
Those words flashed in Asils mind like a bright spark. Shed learned to half-ignore such intrusive messages by now, focusing on the real threat before her. The demon lunged, claws slicing at head level in an arc of black nails. Asil spun aside, but the creatures talon still raked her ribs, drawing a hot line of pain across her side. She sucked in a sharp breath, cursing as her mind screamed that the wound could have been far worse had she moved a moment later. Still, she planted her feet, refusing to let fear distract her. The demon tore forward again, but Asil met its ferocity with her own. She slid into a practiced stance, blade raised, adrenaline fueling every motion. The monster feinted rightjust as shed expected. She turned her sword, ripping it across the spot the demon truly moved to. Its ear-splitting howl tore at the silence of the Dark Woods, echoing off twisted branches. Blackish blood spattered the bark of a nearby tree as the demon slammed against it, momentarily reeling. Asil saw the chance to finish it. Heart hammering, she lunged, blade angled for a killing blow. An instant before steel found flesh; another shape barrelled into her from the sidea fourth demon she hadnt noticed creeping up in the gloom. The impact sent her sword off-course, hacking off the larger demons right forearm instead of striking a lethal blow to its core. Ugh! Asil grunted, forced aside. But her Blade Dancer instincts refused to let her crash to the ground. She tucked into a roll, coming up on one knee, sword at the ready. Her momentum carried her into a swift pivot that ended face-to-face with the new attacker.
Minor Demon Level 1
This time, the demon gave no chance for a respite, already leaping at her midair. Asils eyes narrowed. A flash of fury overcame her cautionshe swung her sword in a lethal arc. The blade bit into the demons neck, severing its head cleanly. In the same move, she twisted her torso just enough to avoid the headless corpse that plummeted where she had stood a heartbeat before.
Minor Demon Level 1 died, EXP gained.
The message pinged at the edges of her mind, but fresh pain flared as the larger demonthe Level 2 that had lost an armcharged back into the fray. It raked its intact claws across Asils midsection in a frenzied assault. She hissed in pain, stumbling back a step. Summoning every ounce of focus she had left, Asil invoked Crescent Strike. A swirl of silver-hued energy charged her blade, arcs of light crackling along the steel. Even a glancing blow could prove lethal now. With a resolute shout, she slashed at the demons shoulder. By usual standards, the wound would have been superficial. But the infused magic exploded on contact, sending a crackling wave through the demons form. Its body dissolved in a sickening vapor, leaving only a fading echo of its wrathful shriek.
Minor Demon Level 2 died, EXP gained. You have leveled up!
Asil barely registered the triumphant text. The last demons ashes drifted away on the breeze, the danger abating as quickly as it had flared. She inhaled sharply, clutching her stinging wounds, blood seeping through the slashed fabric. But Frederickhe was still at her feet, bound and very much alive, wriggling in panic. Her adrenaline spent, Asil collapsed to her knees, sword clattering on the forest floor. She pressed a trembling hand against Fredericks shoulder, feeling him squirm helplessly. Easy, its me, she managed, breath ragged. Her head spun, either from pain or pure relief. Frederick hold still. His eyes, wide with fear, found hers. Recognition dawned, and he let out a muffled noise through his gag, shoulders sagging. Asil exhaled, leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree to steady herself. She reached for the rope binding him, fumbling for the hilt of her sword with unsteady fingers. Hold on, she said again, softer this time. Ill get you free. As she braced Frederick with one arm, the other sawed carefully at the rope, her chest heaving with each breath. Pain blazed at the edges of her consciousness, but she forced it aside, each heartbeat reminding her how close theyd come to losing him. Just one more sec, she murmured. The final threads parted under her blade, and Fredericks arms jerked free. He tore off his gag, sucking in the air, tears of gratitude shining in his eyes. Asil gave him a shaky grin, her side burning with each movement. Yet, she sensed the worst had passedfor now. For a long heartbeat, neither spoke. The forest around them was eerily silent after the chaos. Faintly, the sound of distant clashes drifted from deeper in the woodthe signs of Loren and Abby finishing their own battles, perhaps. Asil cradled her sword in her lap, letting relief wash over her. Thank you, Frederick finally rasped. I I was sure Asil shook her head. Lets just focus on getting back. You can owe me a favor later. She tried to stand, but a lance of pain shot through her side. She winced, pressing a hand to the wound. Frederick swore under his breath, face contorting with concern. With trembling arms, he managed to support her enough to shift closer to a fallen log. Well rest a minute, Asil said. Blood stained her tunic, but the cut, while painful, seemed survivableespecially if they got back to the fort soon. Then well find Loren and Abby. Frederick nodded, swallowing hard. Though their ordeal wasnt quite over, the immediate danger had been vanquished. For now, the forest gave them a fragile reprieve, and Asils heroic dash had spared Frederick from a fate too grim to imagine. As Asil regained her breath, her trembling body hunched protectively over Frederick. The trees around them seemed to press in as if eager to reclaim the small clearing. A low wind stirred the dead leaves at her feet, carrying an uneasy hush. Suddenly, her pouch vibratedan all-too-familiar signal that her journal was updating. The timing felt off, but Asil, blood still seeping from her side, braced herself and retrieved the worn leather book. She flipped through the latest pages, shocked that even in the murky twilight, she could read the text with perfect clarity.
Loot Minor Demon Level 1? Yes / No Loot Minor Demon Level 2? Yes / No Quest Complete: Rescue Frederick. EXP Gained. Reward: 20 copper coins. Reward: Simple Leather Armor.
Her eyes flicked over the words in disbelief. A surge of relief mixed with her exhaustionthe system recognized their mission to save Frederick. With a shaky grin, she circled Yes for both loot prompts:
17 copper coins were added to your pouch. Worn Skill Book was added to your pouch. Simple Leather Bracers were added to your pouch.
Leather bracers? she wondered, but her mind was too drained to process it. She only glanced toward Frederick, who stirred at her side, still dazed but conscious. Asil pressed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Well get you back, she murmured under her breath. Dont worry. Just as she was about to stow the journal, another line of text manifested in crisp letters across the page:
Loot Minor Demon Level 1? Yes / No Loot Minor Demon Level 1? Yes / No
A flicker of surprise and confusion danced across Asils face. These prompts had to be for the initial demons shed abandoned when she dashed off to save Frederick. If the journal was registering them now Abby Loren they mustve defeated those creatures, she realized. Relief flooded herif theyd lost, thered be no loot to claim. And yet, concern gnawed at her, too: Were they okay? Had they survived unscathed? Frederick let out a soft groan, reminding Asil that they didnt have time to dwell on notifications. She carefully lowered her journal, steadying herself to rise. The darkness of the woods pressed harder, every ragged breath echoing in the hush. She forced her battered body to comply, determined to check on Abby and Loren. Just as Asil put a hand on the nearest trunk, ready to stand, an ominous rustling rippled through the brambles and fallen leaves, like some creature skulking just out of sight. A chill raced up her spine, instincts screaming that another threat lurked nearby. She instinctively raised her sworduntil horror froze her in place. The metal of her blade, once bright with that final Crescent Strike, now appeared erodedpockmarked with holes and blackened edges. In the dim light, it looked more fragile than cheap tin foil, as though it might crumble if she swung it again. What? Asil gasped, eyes wide. Blood thundered in her ears, a mix of fear and disbelief. That last demons acid-like blood or corrupted aura must have corroded the steel. She swallowed, heart pounding. If another demon pounced on them now, she had effectively no weapon. Her free hand reached reflexively for the hilt of her secondary bladeonly to recall she hadnt brought one. Shed come here in such a rush.
The demon lunged, but Abby twisted aside with the swift agility her Shadow Dancer training granted. Her heart thundered in her chest, the burn of fear keeping her acrobatics in check. Shed spent only a scant week learning these powersbarely enough time to grasp their potential, let alone master them in life-or-death combat. Yet here she was, forced to rely on raw instinct to protect her friends. Desperate, she tried to invoke Shadow Meld, hoping to vanish as Asil had done in a burst of speed. A prickling sensation gathered in her limbs but faded abruptlythe cooldown had not yet ended. That half-second hesitation cost her dearly. The demons heavy form collided with her, driving her into the ground with a dull thud. All Abby could manage was a choked squeak as she felt claws clamp around her throat. This is it Im done The demons second hand rose overhead, nails gleaming wickedly, prepared to slash downward in a killing strike. Abby tried to scream, but the monstrous grip on her windpipe strangled any sound. Just as the demons arm descended, a flash of steel sliced overhead, severing the demons limb in one clean stroke. Its bellow of rage provided Abby the split second she needed to roll free. She gasped for air, eyes smarting with tears of relief. She continued the roll to her feet in one fluid motion, ripping two more daggers from her belt to replace the ones lost when the demon had pinned her. A short distance away stood Loren, panting heavily, his leg clearly wounded. Blood seeped through a tear in his trousers, yet his grip on his sword remained fierce. Tend to your own creature, girl, he rasped, nodding at the one-armed demon writhing at his feet, or itll come for Asil next. But before Abby could finish off the armless horror, her eyes darted behind Loren. The other demonthe one Loren had been fightingwas poised to pounce from behind, jaws parted in a savage snarl. Loren was too drained from blood loss to react in time. Shadow Meld, Abby pleaded silently, praying the cooldown had elapsed. Her powers answered. She vanished, reappearing in a swirl of darkness directly before the lunging demon. Harnessing every scrap of adrenaline, she drove both daggers into the glowing yellow orbs it had for eyes, burying the blades to the hilt.
Minor Demon Level 1 has died. EXP Gained.
The system message flickered in her mind, but there was no time to revel in it. Momentum carried the demons corpse forward, knocking Abby to the ground in a tumble of limbs. She suppressed a cry as she landed hard on her side. A sharp ache throbbed in her shoulder, but she refused to let it paralyze her. Wincing, Abby tried to roll the demons body off her. Through the creatures leathery skin, she saw Loren brace himself against his sword as the one-armed demon, still bleeding profusely, rose behind him in a final, desperate attack. Look out! Abby tried to shout, voice cracking with strain. But Loren spun, moving like a wounded whirlwind. His blade cleaved the demons head from its shoulders in one decisive arc. Minor Demon Level 1 has died. EXP Gained. The older mans victory cry twisted into a pained groan as he dropped to one knee, clutching at his bleeding leg. The motion sent him toppling onto his other hand, blade biting into the ground for balance. Blood seeped between his fingers, painting them red. A flurry of messages danced in Abbys vision:
Loot Minor Demon Level 1? Yes / No Loot Minor Demon Level 2? Yes / No Quest complete: Rescue Frederick. EXP Gained. Congratulations you have leveled up Reward: 20 copper coins. Reward: Simple Leather Armor
What the fu! Abby began before the dead demon she was pinned under shifted, pressing down on her again with its full weight. Loren dragged himself across the dirt, teeth gritted against waves of agony and helped shove the corpse off Abby. She scrambled upright, only to see how white his face had grown. Your leg she gasped. Lorens calf gushed blood from a ragged tear. Without a second thought, Abby tore off her own shirt, unmindful that it left her in a simple binding across her chest. She hurried to wrap the cloth tight around Lorens wound. The older man hissed through clenched teeth. Im fine, he said, though the lines of pain on his face told a different story. Help me up, girl. Abby opened her mouth to protest but saw his steely glare. She nodded, slipping one arm around his waist as he draped his over her shoulder. Together, they managed a halting limp forward. The Dark Woods still pulsed with unspoken menace, but at least their immediate foes lay dead in the leaf-strewn clearing. We should find Asil, Abby muttered, glancing around anxiously. She went after Frederick lets hope were not too late. Loren simply grunted, focusing on hobbling forward. Despite the pain, he refused to let Abby bear his full weight, intent on retaining some shred of dignity. Using years of tracking expertise, he studied the trail of bent branches and disturbed leaves, guiding them deeper in the direction Asil had fled. Theyd hardly gone a hundred yards when Abbys journal gave a faint buzz at her belt. She ignored itno more mental prompts flashed into her mind, so they were clearly out of active combat. Another few steps brought them around a gnarled tree, and suddenly: Asil! Abby exclaimed, heart leaping. Asil, sword raised defensively, nearly struck at themher eyes wild with fearbut she recognized them at the last second. Relief washed over her features. Beside her, Frederick lay on the forest floor, looking shaken but alive. The tension released in Asils body like an unwound spring, and in that moment, the blade in her hand crumbled into dust, metal corroded beyond salvage. She let the hilt fall to the ground as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Then Asil collapsed to her knees, chest heaving. Her face was pale with exhaustion and pain, a matching expression of triumph and terror flickering in her gaze. Youre both okay? she breathed, eyes darting from Lorens leg to Abbys torn shirt. Thank the gods. Abby rushed forward, half-supporting Loren, who planted his good knee beside Frederick. He quickly checked the young mans pulse, nodding in approval. Fredericks eyes fluttered open, a weak smile tugging at his lips. The battered group gathered in a moment of shared relief, their separate struggles against the demons finally ending. Yet, as they caught their breath in the dim hush of the forest, a collective realization set in: though they had survived, the Dark Woods seethed with dangers far worse than any of them had anticipated. Their quest to rescue Frederick might be finished, but their battles in this grim realm were likely only beginning. Chapter 9: Caw-fee When Petros heard the name Gondel, he nearly choked on his stew, coughing into his sleeve as bits of gravy spattered the table. Waitthe Gondel? Are you sure? he managed between ragged breaths. The legendary High Wizard loomed large in their memoriesa wise mentor figure from countless questlines, staff raised in victory against evil. Yet the man standing unsteadily in the Boar & Brew looked nothing like that grand mage. Instead, he was an unkempt drunk in tattered robes, a shadow of some past glory. II cant be mistaken, Jack said under his breath, gaze fixed on the mans half-lidded eyes and grime-streaked cheeks. Those features they match the artwork from ER3. It has to be him. Observing their obvious distress, Trevor, the barkeep, wandered over. He wiped his hands on a stained rag, eyeing the pair. Something wrong, lads? You both look like youve just seen a ghost. Jack forced a shaky laugh. Uh, no, nothing like that. Its just that he He nodded toward the man swaying in the corner. He reminds me of someone I used to know. Ah, that old sot, Trevor said with sympathy and exasperation. Calls himself Gondel or something along those lines. Showed up in Pendle about a month ago, half-starved and raving. We let him run a tab for a bit, but He shrugged. Seems hes all talknever saw him do anything wizardly. Jack and Petros exchanged a silent look, hearts thrumming with excitement. If this man indeed was Gondel the High Wizard from their favorite game lore, how on earth had he ended up in such a nondescript village tavern? While they struggled for words, Gondel wobbled upright, glaring at a pair of local men whod insulted him. His hand drifted to his belt as though searching for a staff, but he came up empty. Shoulders sagging, he collapsed back into his seat, gripping an empty mug as if it were his last thread of dignity. This cant be real, Jacks mind screamed, even as the boar stew in his stomach felt heavy and very real indeed. Petros, equally overwhelmed, pulled a handful of coins from his pouch, eyes darting around as if seeking a plan. Jack, he whispered urgently, do we talk to him? Jack shot a glance at Trevor, who was returning behind the bar. Then he nodded, jaw set with determination. We have to, either tonightif he sobers up a littleor tomorrow morning. If hes truly the Gondel we know, we cant ignore him. His sentence trailed off, a whirlwind of questions swirling through his thoughts. A quiet voice inside him insisted this world was more than just some advanced VR simbut he clung stubbornly to his original conviction, refusing to let reality slip completely. As the hearth fire crackled, Jack caught sight of Petros slipping away from his seat. The boy sidled up to Gondels table, setting down his mug of milk with a decisive thud. Jack cursed softly under his breath and hurried after him, trying to remain inconspicuous. He arrived just in time to see Petros prodding the wizards arm. G-Gondel sir, Petros half-whispered, his voice tinged with both awe and nerves. Mister Wizard? Jack quickly halted Petross next poke, gripping the younger boys wrist. Petros turned, eyes flashing with stubborn resolve. We should try speaking to him now, Petros insisted. It cant be a coincidence that a High Wizard is here, in the same village tavern we walked into. Before Jack could respond, his pouch vibrated. Petros did as well. They exchanged looks, each pulling out their journals with cautious haste.
New Quest: Sober Up the Wizard? Accept quest? Yes / No
Jack blinked at the line of text, baffled. This is the first time the journals asked us to accept a quest, he muttered. Petros shrugged and whipped out his quill, drawing a neat circle around Yes in his journal. Jack, not wanting to be left behind, quickly did the same. Just then, RavenTrevors daughterglided from the back room, balancing a fresh mug of mead on a wooden tray. She made her way to Gondels table, presumably to replace his drained drink. Jack lifted a hand to intercept. I think hes had enough, Jack said, pushing a few coppers toward her. Could you bring him a cup of coffee? Ravens brow furrowed, repeating the unfamiliar word with a strange lilt. Caw-fee? Jack cleared his throat, trying to correct himself. Its, uh a type of tea from where we come fromsomething strong that might help sober him. He handed over an additional copper. Nodding, Raven turned to fetch a mug of strong brew from the small cauldron over the fire, leaving the mead untouched on her tray. Petros peered worriedly at the drunken wizard, who now had his head slumped against his chest, eyes glazed. Jack, Petros whispered, you dont think hes just some random drunk, do you? I mean, if this quest truly says Jack shook his head, adopting a hushed tone. I have no clue yet. But this is too perfectthe game-lore wizard, out of nowhere, in the exact tavern we stumble into? Weve got to see what he knows. Petros exhaled, half-nodding, his excitement laced with dread. If this man proved to be the real Gondel, they might glean vital information about how this world works or even how to return homeif there was a return at all. The taverns lamps cast a warm glow that flickered across the worn wood beams overhead. The pair of locals whod exchanged words with Gondel earlier had resumed their quiet conversation, occasionally tossing glances at the shabby wizard. Trevor busied himself polishing mugs behind the bar, trying not to eavesdrop yet clearly curious about the foreigners interest in his down-and-out patron. Meanwhile, Petros tapped his foot against the leg of Gondels table, nerves eating at him. Jack studied the wizards face, noting the regal bone structure beneath dirt and disheveled hair layers. Even now, he could sense a flicker of dormant powerlike an ember buried under ash. If hes not the real deal, Jack whispered, then at least we can say we tried. Petros lowered his gaze, voice wavering slightly. And if he is? Jack swallowed, goosebumps rising on his arms. Then we might learn more than we bargained for. A gust of wind rattled the tavern door. The night felt heavy with unanswered questionsabout Gondels past, about why they were here, and what quest might unfold once the old man sobered. Ravens return with steaming tea signaled the first step in unraveling the mystery. We need him to drink, right? Jack guessed, eyeing the half-asleep wizard with uncertainty. Their journals directiveSober up the wizardoffered no further instructions. Petros gently slid the mug of tea closer to the old mans face, going as far as nudging the wizards limp hand to coax him into taking a swig. But the man didnt stir, only exhaling a soft snore. Petros gave a helpless shrug. This might be trickier than it sounds he muttered, glancing around the Boar & Brew to ensure no one was watching. Jack shifted to the chair beside Gondel, brow knitted in frustration. For a moment, he tapped the older mans head with a flick of his finger. The drunk let out a mild grunt, batting at the air as though shooing away a mosquito. Hes really out of it, Jack hissed, preparing to flick him again. Suddenly, Petros waved a hand. Wait, I have an idea. He glanced meaningfully at Jack, then at the room around them, silently asking Jack to block curious eyes. Jack nodded, shifting his body and leaning forward as though engaged in conversation. In reality, he was shielding Petros from the other patrons view. Petros hovered both hands over the wizards slumped shoulders, a gentle glow emanating from his palms. The soft aura around Petross hands was weaker than the brilliant light hed used to heal Jack during their goblin fightlike a faint echo of that power. His fingers traced invisible patterns along Gondels spine, searching for the source of intoxication. Suddenly, Petros froze, his hands hovering over a spot beneath the wizards shoulder blades. The glow intensified with a quick flash, then winked out. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Nggh! Jack grunted, startled by the brightness. He shot a look at the taverns two other patrons, who had briefly halted their game to glare at the pair. After a tense second, they returned to their board, deciding it wasnt worth the effort to intervene. Both Jack and Petros let out a shared sigh of relief, turning their attention back to Gondel. The wizards features had softenedno longer stuck in that drunken grimace. He still appeared fast asleep, but his breathing had changed from the ragged snore to a quieter, more restful rhythm. What did you do? Jack whispered, eyes flicking from Gondels face to Petross dimmed hands. Petros retracted his palms, shoving them nervously into his lap. I, uh tried my healing ability, he admitted, cheeks flushing. Alcohols basically poison, right? So I cleansed him of any toxins. Jack felt a surge of pridePetros could be surprisingly resourceful. Thats genius, he said, clapping the younger boy on the back just as a subtle vibration thrummed at both their sides. They glanced down to see their journals glowing with new text:
Quest: Sober Up the Wizard (Updated) Hear the wizard''s story.
Jack exhaled, a cautious grin forming. So its not over yet we need to talk to him? Before Petros could answer, they heard a low groan from the old man. He blinked blearily, like someone surfacing from a deep sleep. In a sudden move, Gondel straightened, lips moving as if to clear the dryness in his mouth. Spotting the mug beside him, he lifted it to take a long gulponly to spit it out immediately in a splatter of tea that doused Petross front. Gah! Petros sputtered, stepping back from the table and glaring at Jack, who snorted with a suppressed laugh. Gondel wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, grimacing. What in the blazes is this? he demanded, turning a bloodshot stare toward the barkeep, Trevor. Trevor merely shrugged from across the bar and went back to wiping mugs. Seizing the moment, Petros leaned in, offering a placating smile. Sir, we wanted to But Gondels attention snapped onto them, dark eyes narrowing. What do you want? he barked, then, after a beat, softened. Unless youre kind enough to buy an old man a real drink Petros opened his mouth to speak again, but Jack preempted him. Gondel, sir he began. Instantly, the old wizards hand snaked out, clamping onto Jacks forearm with startling strength. Jack felt his bones grind against the wooden table as Gondels brows drew together in an expression of pure menace. Where, the wizard hissed in a low voice, did you come by that name? Fear jolted through the pair. Petros swallowed, momentarily too startled to form words. Jack tried to tug his arm free, but Gondels grip held firm. From behind the bar, RavenTrevors daughterrolled her eyes at the sight. They likely heard you spouting that name in your drunken sleep, you old fool, she said, striding over with a fresh mug of tea. She smacked the wizards hand with a practiced flick, forcing him to release Jack. Were all tired of hearing Gondel this, Gondel that, but if you wanna keep drinkin, Gondel pay your tab. The wizard yanked his arms protectively against his chest, shooting Raven a wounded look. Ow that hurt, he whined, rubbing the back of his hand. Jack flexed his wrist, grateful Ravens intervention saved him from a potential fracture. Petros hurriedly wiped the remnants of tea from his clothes, cheeks ablaze with a mixture of humiliation and anger. Sir, Petros tried again, more tentatively this time. We didnt mean to upset you. We just have some questions. Gondel eyed them both warily. His once-glorious robes looked threadbare in the lantern light; frayed edges caked with dirt and stains. There was no staff at his side, no air of majestic authorityyet a faint hint of arcane power lingered around him, detectable even by the untrained. Hmph. The old man snorted, eyeing the tea. Since youre obviously not bringing me ale what do you want? Jack inhaled slowly, gathering his courage. To hear your story, he said, recalling the latest quest update. They say youre a wizard. Weve heard of your deedsmaybe we can help you. The final words hung in the air, thick with curiosity and the tension of an unspoken secret. Gondel stared at them, eyes flicking between Jack and Petros, as though weighing whether they were worth his time or just another pair of wide-eyed fools. Yet, behind his shadowed, hollow gaze, there was a glimmerperhaps a faded memory of the hero he might once have been. And in that flicker, Jack saw a spark of hope that this drunkard could indeed be Gondel the High Wizard. All that remained was to coax his story out of hiding. Jack discreetly slid a hand beneath the table, letting tiny static arcs dance between his fingers. He kept his palm low to avoid catching the attention of the other patrons in the Boar & Brew, but it was enough for the old wizard to see. See? Jack said quietly. I can channel some magic not much, but its real. Gondel peered at the sparks with dull eyes, lips curling in disapproval. Parlor tricks, he scoffed, his voice a rasp. Cheap illusions youve picked up. Bah. Suppressing a sigh, Jack resisted the urge to demonstrate chain lightning in a crowded tavern. Before he could push further, Petros, perched at the edge of his seat, noticed a nasty gash on Gondels handhalf-healed, crusted with dried blood. Sir, Petros ventured softly, taking hold of Gondels wrist with gentle insistence. Let me try something. Before the wizard could protest, Petros summoned his healing ability. A soft glow enveloped the wound, mending the ragged edges until they looked like they had never existed. Gondel gasped, jerking his hand away, alarmed eyes darting around the tavern to ensure no one had witnessed the miraculous act. Wh-what? he breathed, voice trembling with sudden urgency. How did you? Relieved that no one else in the bar seemed to care, Gondel inhaled sharply, then stood with surprising agility. We cant speak here, he muttered, casting a furtive glance toward Trevor, who observed them from across the bar. Then, with a curt jerk of his head to Jack and Petros, he snapped, Follow me. Moonlight bathed the forest path just beyond Pendle Village, illuminating soft patches of mist that swirled around their feet. Gondel moved far more briskly than a man so recently intoxicated had any right to, making swift progress through the dense woods. Petros exchanged a quick look with Jack, the two remembering how Petros had cleansed the wizard of his drunkenness and residual alcohol poisoning earlier. After half an hour of silent walking, Gondel finally stopped in a small clearing, exhaling with a note of relief. Huddled beneath a canopy of gnarled branches lay a crude shelterbranches and logs lashed together to form a makeshift cabin. Leaves and brush offered poor camouflage but enough to suggest the wizard intended to keep it hidden. More than a mere camp, Jack observed softly, eyebrows raised. Indeed, scattered crates, a half-collapsed bench, and tattered blankets gave the impression that Gondel had lived here for some timeperhaps in hiding. Welcome, the wizard said with a hint of bitterness, waving them through a rough doorway flap. I havent had proper shelter in years, so this will have to do. Inside, the air smelled of damp earth and cold ash, hinting at a long-dead fire. With a final glance over his shoulder, Gondel pulled the door-like covering into place. Then, turning to Jack with intense eyes, he spoke: Show me again. Jack hesitated, sparing Petros a look. The boy nodded, encouraging him to proceed. Jack stepped back into the moonlit clearing just outside the ramshackle cabin. With a determined breath, he arced lightning between two nearby trees. A bright crackle lit the night, leaving faint scorch marks on one trunk. Then, with a careful twist of his wrist, he conjured a tiny spark of Fire Rain, directing it onto the damp remains of a campfire. Flames burst in a small shower of embers, reigniting the pit. Gondel flinched at the flash of light, instinctively shielding his face. By the gods he murmured, crouching near the newly lit fire to warm his hands. You truly wield magic. But how? Once his shock ebbed, Gondels voice grew hoarse, filled with old sorrow. He motioned for them to sit on an overturned log near the flames. Reflections danced across his worn features. A few hundred years ago, this kingdomAerothanewas at war with a Dark Force, he began. Evil nearly overran us. Our most powerful mages enacted a desperate measure, severing the Source of magic from the land. That was the lynchpin. Stripped of magic, the Dark Forces armies withered, and we imprisoned them in a temple deep in the Dark Woods. His voice thickened with regret. But that ritual also cut us off. We lost our spells overnight. The centuries I had lived undone. He gestured to his ragged robe and weathered face. Im an old man clinging to scraps of magic that no longer flow here. Yet you he pointed a trembling finger at Jack and Petros, you tap into the Source, though it should remain sealed. Jack hesitated, carefully choosing his words. We come from far beyond Aerothanes borders, he said. Our realm wasnt affected by this great cutoff. So weve still got some magic. Gondels eyes narrowed suspiciously. You discovered how to preserve it or never lost it at all. Either way, it confounds me. Petros swallowed, nodding. We have friends who traveled with us but got separated. Were trying to find them. A bitter laugh escaped the wizards lips. Then you share a common plight with many in this landsearching for lost kin or allies, stumbling through a kingdom robbed of its birthright. His gaze flickered, a haunted look crossing his face. If your power truly remains intact, you might restore or destroy whats left. But well talk more in the morning. My head reels still from your friends healing. In truth, the old man craved a stiff drinkhed long used alcohol to escape the painful reality of his magicless existencebut for now, necessity trumped indulgence. Agreeing to meet Gondel at dawn, Jack and Petros left the makeshift shelter, returning to the forest path. Neither spoke for the first few minutes, each consumed by the wizards revelations. So were basically outsiders who can use magic in a land where its been cut off for centuries, Petros mused. He rummaged in his pouch, half-expecting another quest update. He must see us as some kind of miracleor threat. Jack nodded, scanning the moonlit treeline. This quest might be bigger than we thought. Or maybe its exactly what the devs plannednewcomers with special access to magic. He exhaled, voice subdued with excitement. We could be vital to whatever endgame is scripted here. Before Petros could respond, shadows shifted behind a gnarled oak. In a blink, two figures lunged at them, arms outstretched. Huh! Jack cried out as a burly thug slammed him face-first into the ground, driving a knee into his back. Petros tried to summon a healing glow or a minor flame, but another assailant twisted his arm painfully behind him, forcing him onto his knees. Pain exploded in Jacks shoulder. He scrambled for a spark of electricity, but a third individual seized his arms, binding them with coarse rope. Petros gasped as he, too, was pinned, hands immobilized to prevent any form of casting. Whwho are you? Jack demanded voice muffled against the dirt. He received only a brutal shove in reply. A coarse voice hissed near his ear: Shut up, or Ill shut you up. Shoulders straining, wrists lashed tight, Jack and Petros found themselves utterly trapped. Their magic, so powerful moments earlier, was now out of reachhelpless as they realized their fight might have only just begun. Chapter 10: Loot we got. The journey back to Fort Harjil was slow and laborious. Loren leaned heavily on Abby, his face pale and drawn, while Asil supported Frederick, who was still unsteady on his feet. The Dark Woods seemed to close around them, the twisted trees casting long shadows dancing in the fading light. Every step reminded them of the battle they had just survivedand the dangers that still lurked in the forest. As they approached the fortress gates, Geraldine was already waiting, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her sharp eyes immediately locked onto Lorens bloodied leg, and she rushed forward, her usual composure slipping for just a moment. What happened? she demanded, her voice a mix of concern and frustration. I told you not to push yourself too hard, Loren Dourant. Loren managed a weak grin, though it was strained with pain. Just a scratch, Geri. Nothing to fuss over. Geraldines lips pressed into a thin line, but she didnt argue further. Instead, she motioned for Martin and Stewart, who had been hovering nervously nearby, to help carry Loren inside. Asil and Abby followed, their own injuries less severe but still demanding attention. The fortress courtyard, usually bustling with activity, fell silent as the group entered. The recruits stopped their drills, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and fear. Even Tobin and Serena, the orphaned siblings, peeked out from the kitchen doorway, their faces pale. Geraldine led the way to the small infirmary, a room tucked away near the back of the fortress. It was sparsely furnished, with a few cots, a table laden with bandages and salves, and a single lantern casting a warm glow. Loren was eased onto one of the cots, his breath hissing through his teeth as Geraldine began to inspect his wound. Youre lucky it didnt hit an artery, she muttered, her hands moving with practiced efficiency. But its deep. Youll need stitches. Loren grunted in response; his jaw clenched as Geraldine prepared the needle and thread. Asil and Abby lingered near the doorway, unsure whether to stay or go. Geraldine glanced up at them, her expression softening slightly. You two look like youve been through the wringer yourselves, she said. Sit down before you collapse. Asil hesitated but eventually sank onto a nearby stool, wincing as the movement pulled at the cuts on her side. Abby perched on the edge of another cot, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her journal. Still pale and shaky, Frederick leaned against the wall, his eyes distant. For a few moments, the only sounds were the soft rustle of Geraldines movements and Lorens occasional grunts of pain. Then, as Geraldine began to stitch Lorens wound, she broke the silence. What happened out there? she asked, her tone calm but firm. And dont tell me it was just a scratch, Loren. I want the truth. Asil and Abby exchanged a glance, unsure where to begin. It was Loren who spoke first, his voice low and gravelly. Demons, he said simply. At least four of them. They ambushed Frederick and the boys. We went after them, but they were stronger than we expected. Geraldines hands stilled for a moment, her eyes flicking to Lorens face. Demons? In the Dark Woods? I thought theyd been quiet for years. They have, Loren replied, his expression grim. But somethings stirred them up. These werent just stragglers. They were organized. And they had abilities. Things Ive never seen before. Abby flushed at the praise, shaking her head. I just did what I had to. I couldnt let him die. Geraldines gaze softened as she looked at Abby. Youve got a brave heart, girl. Dont sell yourself short. She turned back to Loren, her hands resuming their work. And you? What were you thinking, charging in like that? Youre not as young as you used to be, you know. Loren chuckled, though it was cut short by a wince as Geraldine tugged on the thread. Ill be fine, Geri. Just need a few days to rest. Youll need more than that, Geraldine retorted, though there was a hint of affection in her tone. Youre not going anywhere until I say so. Asil couldnt help but smile at the exchange despite the lingering ache in her side. There was something comforting about the way Geraldine fussed over Loren, a reminder that even in this harsh and unpredictable world, there were still moments of normalcy. As Geraldine finished tending to Lorens wound, she turned her attention to Asil and Abby. Now, lets see to you two. Youre not getting out of here without a proper check-up. Asil hesitated, but Geraldines no-nonsense demeanor left no room for argument. She allowed Geraldine to inspect her injuries, wincing as the older woman cleaned and bandaged the cuts on her side. Abby, too, submitted to Geraldines care, though she flinched when the salve was applied to the bruises on her throat. As they were patched up, Asil and Abby recounted the battle in more detailthe ambush, the demons strange abilities, and the desperate fight to save Frederick. Geraldine listened intently, her expression growing graver with each passing moment. This changes things, she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. If the demons are becoming more active, we need to be prepared. We cant afford to be caught off guard again. Loren nodded, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but still sharp. Well need to fortify the defenses. Train the recruits harder. And well need to send scouts to see if there are more of them out there. Asil glanced at Abby, who met her gaze with a determined nod. They both knew what this meanttheir training would intensify, and the stakes would only increase. But they also knew they couldnt back down. Not now. As Geraldine finished bandaging Abbys wounds, she placed a hand on the younger womans shoulder. Youve done well, both of you. But this is just the beginning. Rest now. Youve earned it. Asil and Abby nodded, their bodies heavy with exhaustion but their spirits unbroken. They had survived the Dark Woodsfor now. But as they left the infirmary and stepped back into the fortress courtyard, the weight of what lay ahead settled over them like a storm cloud on the horizon. Once they left Geraldines side, Asil and Abby made their way down the forts narrow corridor to their shared modest room. The tension and fatigue from the demon fight still weighed heavily on them, but the relief of survivingand knowing Loren was on the mendkept them upright. The dim torchlight from the corridor barely spilled into their room, casting long shadows across the sparse furnishings: a wooden bunk, a small table, and a single oil lamp flickering against the stone walls. Asil set the lamp on the table, turning up the wick just enough to illuminate the room. The soft glow revealed the faint lines of exhaustion on both their faces, but there was also a spark of curiosity in their eyes. We should check out the loot we got, Abby said, rubbing her arms as if to ward off a chill. The journals said we had some interesting items. Asil nodded, her exhaustion momentarily overshadowed by curiosity. She reached into her pouch, tugging gently on items that shouldnt possibly fit inside. One by one, they emergeda damaged sword, a pair of leather bracers, a worn skill book, and the ever-present journal. Across the small bunk, Abby performed the same ritual, collecting her own set of gear. They spread everything across the rumpled bedding, exchanging glances at how the exact same pouch could hold so much. Although the items were nearly identical in function, each seemed sized specifically for the owner. Abby, petite yet wiry, noticed the bracers in her loot were narrower; Asil, taller and more muscled, found a sturdier chest piece. Im definitely stronger here than I ever was back home, Asil admitted quietly, half to herself. She flexed her arm, noting the subtle definition that had developed over weeks of training with Loren. All that sparring has changed my body. Abby, more self-conscious, didnt comment on her own physique but nodded in agreement. She ran a hand over her leather chest piece, her fingers tracing the smooth surface. Its strange, isnt it? How quickly weve adapted to this place. Asil lifted her own leather chest piece, examining it closely. I wonder if theres anything special about these, she muttered. Right on cue, her journal gave a soft buzz on the mattress. She flipped it open, and words scrolled across the page:
Simple Leather Chestpiece Type: Light Armor (Torso) Rarity: Common Requirements: None (anyone can wear) Defense Bonus: +2 Physical Defense Durability: 25/25 Description: A snug-fitting piece of light armor stitched from basic leather. Provides modest protection against physical attacks without overly restricting movement. +2 Physical Defense, Asil murmured, managing a small, wry smile. Not a ton, but definitely better than nothing. She set the chestpiece aside and picked up the leather bracers. Again, words scrolled across the journals pages: This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Simple Leather Bracers Type: Light Armor (Forearms) Rarity: Common Requirements: None (anyone can wear) Defense Bonus: +1 Physical Defense Durability: 15/15 Description: Basic forearm guards made of tanned hide. Offers minor protection to the arms. Ideal for beginner adventurers who need a little extra defense.
Its like a game tutorial telling me these are starter items, Asil mused aloud. Abby leaned in, reading over Asils shoulder. She then glanced at her own bracers scattered on the bed. Same stats, but sized for me, she noted, picking them up. Pretty handy. Finally, Asil turned her attention to the worn skill book. The journal updated yet again:
Worn Skill Book (Mirage Waltz) Type: Consumable (Skill Book) Rarity: Rare Requirements: Blade Dancer class, Level 9 Durability: 1 use Effect: Grants the Mirage Waltz skill upon reading (the tome disintegrates afterward).
Curious, Asil lifted the delicate tome. It had a small, ornate claspmore decorative than functionalyet she couldnt pry it open. Despite the fragile look of the cover, it refused to bend or tear, as if magically sealed. Locked until I hit Level 9, Asil realized, carefully placing it back on the bed. So a skill called Mirage Waltz? Abby peered closer, arching an eyebrow. That name sounds intense. She gestured for Asil to read the details in her journal. Sure enough, lines scrolled across the page:
Mirage Waltz Level 1 (Active Skill) Description: The Blade Dancer briefly splits into multiple afterimages, striking nearby enemies with a flurry of slashes. Each illusion performs a fraction of the users base weapon damage, confusing foes and maximizing agility. Mechanics: Illusion Splitting: Upon activation, up to 3 phantom copies appear around the user, each delivering a quick strike to designated targets in melee range. Damage: Each strike deals 50C70% of normal weapon damage. Evasion Window: For 1C2 seconds, user gains partial intangibility or a significant dodge bonus. Cooldown: 60 seconds. Lore: A secret Blade Dancer technique once famed in Aerothane for melding grace and lethality. Thought lost after the Great Cutoff, it survives here through this tattered tome.
Thats powerful, Abby remarked, eyebrows lifting. Good thing youre on our side. Asil smiled wryly, drumming her fingers on the locked tome. I cant actually use it yet, but I appreciate the vote of confidence. After stowing the Mirage Waltz tome in her pouch for safekeeping, Asil turned to Abbys spread of items. A nearly identical set of leather armor glinted in the lamps glow, though there was no skill book among her loot. No book for you? Asil asked gently. Abby shrugged, fiddling with the bracers. Guess not. All I have is this gear and some extra coins. Maybe its because you did most of the demon-slaying. The bigger the threat, the bigger the loot, right? Asil hesitated, unsure how to respond without sounding boastful. It was true shed fought the most brutal demonLevel 2almost singlehandedly. She cleared her throat. I, uh, suppose the system recognized that. Dont worry; well find you some amazing skill next time. Abby laughed sheepishly, tugging at her bracers straps. Its all good. Im still figuring out how to vanish and reappear without falling over. A soft silence followed as they both studied their gear. Outside, muffled activity echoed in the corridormen bustling about, handling leftover tasks. The fortress never truly slept, especially with demon threats looming nearby. At last, Abby ran a hand over her own leather chest piece, then looked to Asil. Weve changed a lot, havent we? Physically, I mean. Asil nodded, glancing at her newly toned arms. Yes were stronger more agile. Even how we stand feels different. Memories of their old lives flickered in their minds, though they left such thoughts unspoken. This world forced them to adaptquickly and drastically. Asil turned her attention to the damaged sword. She lifted it up to the candlelight, examining what remained of the blade. The once smooth, polished metal was now brittle and pockmarked. Turning it over, she surmised it had something to do with her Crescent Strikethe raw power from the ability must have been too much for the sword to handle. Ill need to find a better weapon that can channel my abilities, Asil remarked, more to herself than to Abby. Abby nodded in agreement, letting out a low whistle as she looked at the damaged weapon. You should have seen the look on your face when the blade crumbled, she teased, a sly grin spreading across her face. Smiling, Asil ruffled Abbys hair. Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. Anyway, lets get some rest, Asil suggested, stifling a yawn. Well need every ounce of energy to handle tomorrows chores and well, the unknown. Abby agreed, carefully placing her gear back into the magical pouch and double-checking that the items fit. Amazingly, there was ample room despite the pouchs modest exterior. Asil followed suit, setting aside the battered sword shed salvaged, her new bracers, and the rare skill book. She couldnt help but feel a thrumming anticipation for the day she reached Level 9yet a sliver of fear persisted, knowing that such power would likely be demanded in even deadlier confrontations. Night, Abby, she murmured, blowing out the oil lamp. They both lay back on their beds in the darkness, minds swirling with the days revelations. Neither voiced it aloud, but each wrestled with the same question: What trials would tomorrow bringand what deeper secrets did this realm hold for them and their newfound powers?
With Loren still bedridden, the atmosphere at Fort Harjil shifted. The men, usually steady and focused, now moved with an undercurrent of unease. The demon ambush had shaken them, and the sight of their grizzled leader confined to a cot only deepened their anxiety. Asil could see it in their eyesthe way they glanced toward the Dark Woods during drills, the hushed conversations that stopped when she or Abby walked by. They needed direction, and she wasnt about to let fear take root. Alright, listen up! Asil called out one morning, her voice cutting through the crisp air of the courtyard. The recruitsFrederick, Martin, Stewart, Clive, and Baumsnapped to attention, though their expressions were wary. Lorens recovering, but that doesnt mean we get to slack off. If anything, we need to be sharper than ever. Demons dont care if were scared. Theyll come whether were ready or not. The men exchanged glances, but no one argued. Asils presence had become a steadying force, her Blade Dancer skills earning their respect even if her authority was still new. She picked up a practice sword and gestured for Frederick to step forward. Youre up first. Show me what youve got. Frederick hesitated, his usual confidence dampened by the memory of his near-capture in the woods. But Asils steady gaze pushed him to action. He raised his sword, and the two began to spar. The clack of wooden blades echoed across the courtyard, drawing the attention of the others. Asil moved with precision, her strikes controlled but relentless. She wasnt just training themshe was reminding them that they could fight back. Abby joined in later, her Shadow Dancer agility making her a formidable sparring partner. She darted between the recruits, her movements fluid and unpredictable. Youve got to anticipate your opponent, she said, ducking under Stewarts swing and tapping him lightly on the shoulder with her dagger. If youre too slow, youre dead. Between training sessions, Abby helped Geraldine with chores around the fort. The older woman had taken charge of the new orphans, Tobin and Serena, putting them to work to keep their minds off the forest and their recent loss. Serena proved adept at organizing supplies, while Tobin followed Martin and Clive around like a shadow, eager to learn everything he could about fort life. Theyre good kids, Geraldine remarked one afternoon as she and Abby sorted through a crate of dried herbs. But theyve been through too much. Keeping them busy helps. Abby nodded, her thoughts drifting to her own journey. Shed been thrust into this world just as suddenly, forced to adapt to its dangers and demands. Theyll find their place here, she said quietly. We all do, eventually. Meanwhile, patrols near the Dark Woods became more cautious. Asil and Abby took turns accompanying the men, ensuring they stayed clear of the forests edge. The rule was simple: observe from the clearing, report anything unusual, and under no circumstances venture into the woods without Asil. The men grumbled at first, but the memory of the demon ambush kept them in line. Its not about fear, Asil told them during one patrol. Its about being smart. We dont know whats out there, and until we do, we play it safe. The days passed in a rhythm of training, patrols, and chores. The fort felt quieter without Lorens booming voice, but life went on. Asil and Abby grew closer, their shared experiences forging a bond that went beyond mere camaraderie. They were survivors, fighters, and now, leaders in their own right. Then, one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the fort settled into its nightly routine, a shout came from the gates. Riders approaching! Asil and Abby exchanged a glance before hurrying to the ramparts. In the distance, a small group of figures on horseback emerged from the tree line. At the front rode a man who bore a striking resemblance to Loren, his broad shoulders and stern expression unmistakable. Beside him was a younger man, likely his son, and behind them trailed a handful of recruitssome nervous, others eager. Its Lorens brother, Geraldine said, joining them on the wall. Her voice was calm, but there was a note of relief in it. And his nephew. Theyve brought reinforcements. Asil felt a flicker of hope as she watched the group approach. The fort had been stretched thin, and the arrival of fresh faces was a welcome sight. But she also knew it meant the stakes were rising. If Lorens family had come, it was a sign that the threats they faced were far from over. The gates creaked open, and the riders filed in. Lorens brother dismounted first, his eyes scanning the courtyard with a practiced ease. Wheres Loren? he asked, his voice deep and gravelly. Recovering, Asil replied, stepping forward. Hell be glad to see you. The man nodded, his gaze lingering on Asil for a moment before shifting to the recruits behind him. Weve got work to do, he said simply. Lets get these newcomers settled. Asil watched as the new recruits were ushered inside, their faces a mix of curiosity and apprehension. She felt a pang of sympathythey had no idea what they were stepping into. But she also felt a renewed sense of determination. The fort was stronger now, and so was she. As the gates closed behind the last rider, Asil turned to Abby. Looks like things are about to get interesting. Abby grinned, though there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes. When are they not? The two women shared a laugh, the sound carrying over the quiet courtyard. For a moment, the weight of their responsibilities lifted, replaced by the simple comfort of friendship. But as the night deepened and the stars began to dot the sky, Asils thoughts turned to the days ahead. The Dark Woods loomed in the distance, its secrets still hidden, its dangers ever-present. And somewhere, deep within its shadowed depths, something stirred. Chapter 11: We’re Not Invincible, Are We? The forest was eerily silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the cold night breeze. An old man stood motionless along the shadowed tree line, his gnarled hands resting on a walking stick. The hood of his cloak partially obscured his weathered face, but his eyessharp and piercingremained fixed on the scene unfolding on the road ahead. Jack and Petros lay hogtied in the dirt, their faces pressed into the rough ground. The three highwaymen loomed over them, rifling through their belongings with rough, impatient hands. One of the thugs, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, yanked Jacks pouch free and shook it upside down, expecting coins or valuables to spill out. Instead, the pouch remained stubbornly empty. What kind of trick is this? the man snarled, tossing the pouch aside in frustration. He kicked Jack in the ribs for good measure, eliciting a pained grunt. Check the other one, another thug barked, his voice gravelly and impatient. He grabbed Petros by the collar, shaking him roughly. Wheres your gold, boy? Dont tell me youre traveling empty-handed. Petros winced, his voice trembling. We dont have anything! Please, just let us go! The third thug, a wiry man with a sneer, crouched beside Jack and began patting him down. Theyre lying, he muttered. No one travels these roads without coin. Keep looking. From his hidden vantage point, the old man watched with a furrowed brow. His grip tightened on his walking stick, and for a moment, it seemed he might step forward. But before he could move, a small hand tugged at the hem of his cloak. Dont, a childs voice whispered, soft but firm. The old man glanced down to see a little girl standing beside him, no more than eight or nine years old. She had pigtails tied with frayed ribbons and wore a simple dress that might have once been bright but was now faded and patched. Her wide, innocent eyes belied the sharpness of her tone. Theyre not your concern, the girl said, her voice carrying an odd weight for someone so young. Let the thieves have their fun. The old man hesitated, his gaze flickering back to Jack and Petros. Theyre just boys, he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. They dont deserve this. The girl tilted her head, her expression unreadable. Deserve has nothing to do with it. This is their path. Interfering would only complicate things. The old mans jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His eyes lingered on Jack and Petros, a flicker of sympathy in their depths. The girl, meanwhile, watched the scene with a faint smile, as if amused by the desperation of the bound travelers and the frustration of the thieves. On the road, the thugs finally gave up, tossing the pouches aside in disgust. Waste of time, the scarred man spat, delivering one last kick to Jacks side before turning away. Lets go. These two arent worth the trouble. The trio disappeared into the shadows, their laughter fading into the night. Jack and Petros were left alone, bound and helpless in the middle of the road. The old man exhaled softly, his shoulders slumping as if burdened by the weight of what hed just witnessed. The girl patted his arm, her touch oddly reassuring. Come, she said. Theres nothing more to see here. The old man cast one last glance at the bound figures before turning away, his footsteps silent as he followed the girl deeper into the forest. Their presence faded like a wisp of smoke, leaving no trace behind. Back on the road, Jack groaned, his face pressed into the dirt. Petros, he mumbled, his voice muffled. You okay? No, Petros replied, his voice strained. I think they dislocated my shoulder. And these ropes are cutting into my wrists. Jack shifted, trying to ease the pressure on his bound arms. We need to get out of this. Think you can reach your magic? Petros closed his eyes, focusing. He tried to summon the healing glow that had come so easily before, but nothing happened. I I cant. Its like its blocked or something. Same here, Jack muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. He strained against the ropes, but they held fast. This is ridiculous. Weve fought goblins and boars, and now were getting mugged by a bunch of simple thugs? Petros wriggled, trying to loosen the bonds. Maybe if I can just twist my hands He gritted his teeth, his face contorted with effort. After a few agonizing minutes, he managed to slip one hand free. Got it! he whispered triumphantly. Petros quickly untied the rest of the ropes, binding him, then moved to free Jack. The older man groaned as the pressure on his arms was relieved, rubbing his wrists to restore circulation. Thanks, Jack said, his voice tinged with relief. Now, lets see if we can get our magic working. They sat in the middle of the road, focusing intently. Jack held out his hand, trying to summon a spark of lightning. At first, nothing happened. Then, with a faint crackle, a small arc of electricity danced between his fingers. Yes! Jack exclaimed, his face lighting up. Its weak, but its there. Petros, meanwhile, managed to summon a faint glow in his palms. He pressed his hands to Jacks side, where the thugs kick had left a bruise. The glow intensified, and Jack felt the pain ebb away. Good job, Jack said, clapping Petros on the shoulder. Now, lets see if we can find our pouches. They scanned the road, their eyes adjusting to the dim moonlight. To their surprise, the pouches lay a few feet away, seemingly untouched. Jack picked his up, opening it to find all its contents intact. What the? Jack muttered, his brow furrowing. They took these. I saw them. Petros checked his own pouch, his expression equally baffled. Mines fine too. Everythings here. They exchanged a puzzled look, the strangeness of the situation sinking in. This doesnt make sense, Jack said slowly. Unless unless they didnt actually take them? Petros shook his head. I dont know. But Im not complaining. Jack slung his pouch over his shoulder, his expression grim. Come on. Lets get back to town. Weve had enough excitement for one night. As they walked, the weight of their recent failure hung heavy in the air. Jack glanced at Petros, his voice quiet. Were not invincible, are we? Petros shook his head. No. And I guess not every battle is going to be a win. Jack nodded, his jaw tightening. Then well just have to get stronger. Smarter. Because if this is what were up against, we cant afford to lose again. The road stretched ahead, dark and uncertain. But as they walked, the faint glow of Pendle Villages lights appeared in the distance, a small beacon of hope in the otherwise bleak night. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over Pendle Village as Jack and Petros dragged themselves back toward the Boar & Brew. Each step felt heavier than the last; the weight of humiliation pressed down on their shoulders, mingling with the ache of bruises and rope burns. The memory of being hogtied by common thugs gnawed at them, a stark reminder that raw power alone wouldnt guarantee victory in this world. When the tavern came into view, Jack raised a cautious hand. Wait, he whispered, voice tense. Lets make sure its safe. They ducked into the shadows beside a small, shuttered bakery, scanning the silent street. Pendle was almost asleeponly a distant owl hooted in the moonlit outskirts. No sign of the highwaymen who had ambushed them. After a few heartbeats, Jack exhaled, nodding for Petros to follow. Clear, he muttered, stepping out. Lets get inside before someone else decides to rob us. They slipped through a side door of the Boar & Brew, taking care not to slam it. Inside, the common room lay draped in shadows, the hearth reduced to glowing embers. A couple of patrons snoozed at their tables, clutching half-empty mugs. Trevor was nowhere in sight, nor was Raven. The only sounds were the soft crackle of dying coals and the gentle snores of the sleeping customers. Moving quickly, they crept past the dozing drinkers and ascended the creaking staircase to their rented room. The floorboards groaned in protest, but no one stirred below. Once they were inside, Jack shut the door and slid the simple bolt into place. He let out a long breath he hadnt realized he was holding. That was humiliating, Petros muttered, collapsing onto the edge of the narrow bed. The flicker of the moonlight through a small window revealed the tension etched on his face. We froze uplike total amateurs. Jack crossed the space in two weary strides and sank onto the floor, leaning his back against the wall. Its not just that we froze its that weIcouldnt cast anything, not even a spark. His voice was subdued, laced with frustration. I thought maybe there was some weird interference or the thugs had magic of their own. But no. It was all us. Petros nodded grimly, fingers knotting together in his lap. We panicked. Got so scared we couldnt concentrate. Thats what blocked our magic. Jack winced at the memory of lying helpless, arms pinned behind him. Hard to believe a bunch of low-level crooks did that. Weve dealt with goblins and boars, for crying out loud. Petros rubbed his shoulder, still tender from the earlier manhandling. We forgot how to fight without spells. And when magic failedbecause we failed ourselvesthere was nothing left. Jack forced a wry smile. Not that I had real combat skills in the realuh, the real worldbefore this. I always joked about wanting to level up my swordsmanship guess I got my chance. Silence settled like a shroud. Finally, Jack pushed himself upright and plopped onto the bed beside Petros. First things first, he said, extending his hand. We need to patch ourselves up. With a faint nod, Petros clasped Jacks hand, closing his eyes. He could almost feel the coiling fear threatening to unravel his concentration. Push past it, he told himself. A soft glow flickered between their palms, warmth seeping into Jacks bruised ribs. The pain receded like a tide, leaving only a dull ache. Petros then turned the healing toward his own shoulder, relieving the lingering strain of a near-dislocation. Feels better, Petros said, flexing his arm. A thin sheen of sweat dotted his brow; his magic felt more draining than usual. Jack sighed in relief, leaning his head against the wall. Well get there, he affirmed quietly. Itll take time, but its a start. Petros fiddled with the band of rope burns around his wrist, his expression pensive. What if we cant get past this? What if we freeze up again next time? Jack met his gaze, resolve flickering in his eyes. Then we keep practicing until we dont. Fear was the real enemy. We got spooked, thought we might actually die and everything crumbled. He grimaced, recalling the terrifying moment of panic. But the more we treat this like a gamelike we can learn from each defeatthe less well freeze. A smile flickered at Petross lips, though sorrow still clung at the edges. A game. Right. He hesitated, then forced a nod. We need to level ourselves up. No more half-measures. Jack nodded with renewed conviction. Exactly. This world might be insanely realistic, but deep down, Im sure we can push through if we keep that player mindset. Well systematically train. Well figure out non-magical fighting, too. Petross lips twitched with the ghost of a grin. What, like practicing bo staff spins or knife throws behind the tavern? Why not? Jack said, straightening, a spark of enthusiasm returning. Better that than relying solely on lightning and healing. Because if we choke on casting again, we wont be so defenseless. The room was still as they paused, letting the tension drain. Rain-scented wind seeped through a gap in the shutters, rattling them gently. Outside, the hush of midnight reigned, broken only by distant scuffling or a stray cat in the alley. Starting tomorrow, Jack declared, exhaling slowly. We train every day. Physical drills, mental focus, everything. We cant afford another fiasco like tonight. Agreed, Petros said firmly. No more illusions of invincibility. No more easy defeats. They prepared for bed in hushed movements, unlacing boots and checking their pouches to confirm no items were missing. Amazingly, everything remained intactthe highwaymen had learned nothing of the pouches hidden properties. We got lucky, Jack murmured, sliding under the threadbare blanket. Next time, we might not. I dont want to test the respawn system in the beta game; they may only give us one life. Petros blew out a small candle on the table, enveloping the room in near darkness. Then we make sure there isnt a next time. The silent weight of his words lingered in the gloom. Despite the fatigue gnawing at them, sleep came slowly, haunted by images of ropes, mocking laughter, and the cold flash of moonlight on steel. But beneath those fears lay a flicker of hope: they had survived. And survival meant another chance to grow stronger. The morning sun had just peeked above the rooftops when Jack and Petros made their way down the narrow street, the faint aroma of woodsmoke and fresh baking bread drifting through Pendle Village. The Boar & Brew was already abuzz with early risersa mix of farmers, travelers, and a few bleary-eyed patrons still nursing last nights ale. Their low chatter mingled with the clink of mugs and rattling plates. At a corner table, Gondel lounged, steaming mug in hand. His tattered robes looked even worse than the night beforelike hed spent hours pacing, picking at frayed edges. Yet the old wizards eyes brightened at the sight of Jack and Petros, though whether from genuine warmth or eagerness for company, Jack couldnt tell. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Petros, sporting a small, hopeful smile, waved as they slid into chairs across from Gondel. Morning, Jack said, nodding toward the wizards mug. Tea, I hope? Gondel chuckled, tapping the rim. Tea for me, yes. Jack caught Petross eye, relief passing between them as they recalled last nights fiasco. Just then, Raven approached, an apron dusted with flour hanging from her waist and the same no-nonsense expression etched on her features. Tea and breakfast? she asked, her tone brisk. Please, Jack said. And, um, something hearty if you have it. She gave a curt nod, disappearing into the kitchen. Jack leaned forward, elbows on the table. Weve decided we want to start training our magic today, he said, voice dropping slightly. We, uh, had an incident last night that brought us down a peg. We realized were not as prepared as we thought. Petros bobbed his head, expression earnest. We need more than spells, toosome melee training, physical drills, that sort of thing. He demonstrated a few half-hearted chopping motions in the air, prompting a raised eyebrow from Gondel. Gondel stroked his tangled beard, gaze distant. Before the Great Cutoff, Aerothane was rife with monsters and magical creatures, he said, voice carrying a wistful tinge. The land was teeming with spells and arcane secrets. But when we severed ourselves from the Source, it all but vanished. Some claim creatures still lurk in the Dark Woods, but few dare to go thereand fewer return. Jack exchanged a look with Petros. We ran into some goblins on the road in. Do those count as monsters? At this, Gondel froze, mug hovering near his lips. His fingers clenched around the handle, knuckles whitening. Are you certain? he asked, a tremor underlying the low tone. Pretty sure, Jack replied, trying for nonchalance. We took them out. No big deal, right? He decided not to mention the nearly dying several times part. The wizard set his mug down with a clink, lines of worry etching his face. By the gods, he murmured. First two newcomers wielding magic, and now rumors of goblins returning This is troubling. Petros shifted uncomfortably, about to speak when Raven returned, balancing two steaming bowls of meat and fresh mugs of tea. She set them down with practiced ease. Her eyes flicked to Petros, and for a fleeting moment, a trace of softness touched her otherwise stern face. Petros quickly looked away, cheeks warming, as Jack smothered a grin. The momentary distraction pulled Gondel from his reverie. He exhaled, focusing on Jack and Petros again. Yes, yes. Well need to train you both properly. I tried well, I was up most of the night attempting to reconnect with my own magic. His voice dropped. No luck, of course. The Source is still beyond my grasp. An awkward silence lingered. Jack and Petros dug into their breakfast, minds spinning with half-formed words of sympathy. Finally, Jack cleared his throat. We need more gear too. Were picking up new clothes from the tailor, but well need a staff or knives for close combat. Gondel twirled a frayed thread from his robe, face thoughtful. Henry at the blacksmith can sell you some blades. As for a staff He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching in a faint smile. Well gather materials ourselves in the woods. Better to create your own staff, one that resonates with your magic and style. Jack found himself genuinely intrigued. A custom staff, huh? Precisely, Gondel confirmed. Well head out after you finish your errands. Meet me outside the tavern by midmorning. Draining the last of his tea, Jack rose, motioning for Petros to follow. Cmon, kid. Weve got a date with the tailor. Petros practically jumped to his feet, a wave of enthusiasm shining in his eyesthough he still cast a shy glance toward Raven before trailing after Jack. The morning sunshine greeted them as they stepped outside, the village streets gradually coming alive. Clanging metal from the blacksmith, merchants calling out prices for producePendle bustled with its own brand of quiet energy. Despite the lingering sting from last nights defeat, Jack felt a spark of optimism. They had a plan: get better gear, train with Gondel, and refine their magic so it wouldnt fail them again. Perhaps that would be enough. You feeling okay? Jack asked gently, noticing Petros rubbing his shoulder. The boy offered a small smile. Better than last night, thats for sure. We can do this, right? Jack nodded, steeling himself against the uncertainty of a world that kept proving more real than he wanted to admit. We can. One step at a time. With that, they headed toward the tailors shop, the morning sun bright on their faces, each footstep carrying them closer to the next phase of their journeya path that promised challenges, but also the potential for them to truly come into their own. The morning light was soft, painting the narrow streets of Pendle Village in gentle gold as Jack and Petros stepped out of the Boar & Brew. A faint coolness lingered in the air, accompanied by the warm, yeasty aroma of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery. Merchants bustled about, setting up stalls for the days trade, while townsfolk emerged from their homes, yawning off the last of the night. Just as they were about to set off toward the tailors shop, both felt a synchronized vibration emanate from their respective journals. Exchanging a curious glance, Jack retrieved his, flipping through the pages until he found the latest update: Quest Updated: Sober Up the Wizard New Objective: Train with Gondel to hone your magical abilities and prepare for the challenges ahead. Reward: Increased proficiency in magic, potential new skills. Petros glanced at his own, a smile tugging at his lips. Looks like were on track, he said, sliding the journal safely into his pouch. Yeah, Jack replied, rubbing the back of his neck. Lets just hope Gondels as good a teacher as he is a drinker. They headed deeper into the village, the cobblestone underfoot still damp with morning dew. Before long, they arrived at a modest building marked by a faded sign of a spool of thread. The wooden sign creaked as it swayed in a light breeze. Inside, the air smelled of fresh fabric and dye. Bolts of cloth lined the walls, and several mannequins displayed finished garmentstunics, cloaks, and trousers of varying styles. A woman in her late thirties, her auburn hair pulled into a practical braid, paused her measuring of a deep blue cloth to greet them. Morning, she said with a polite nod. Im Mara. Can I help you? Jack offered a friendly grin. Were here for the clothes we ordered yesterdaymy names Jack, this is Petros. Recognition brightened Maras eyes, and she set aside the cloth. Ah, yes. One moment. She disappeared into a back room, returning shortly with two neatly bundled stacks of clothing. New trousers and tunics, as requested, she announced, holding them out. And a pair of boots for the master. She finished looking down on Jacks sandals. Jack accepted the bundles and handed Petros his. Thanks, Mara. They look great, he said, admiring the sturdy stitching. Her professional composure softened into a small smile. If you need boots, cloaks, or custom orders, just let me know. After exchanging coinswincing at the diminishing clink of their pursethey headed out. Petros glanced over his shoulder as they left. She seemed nice, he remarked, cradling the folded garments under his arm. And really good at her work. The ring of hammer on steel guided them to a squat building near the edge of town, smoke billowing from a tall chimney. Inside, the heat enveloped them like a furnace, the air thick with the smell of coal and molten metal. A burly man, his face and arms coated in soot, glanced up from the anvil. Must be Henry, Jack surmised, raising his voice over the clang of metal. The blacksmith set down his hammer, wiping his brow. Aye, thats me. Looking for something particular? Daggers, Jack replied, stepping closer to the racks of finished work. Light, sturdy, not too expensive. Henrys calloused hands reached for a pair of sleek daggers gleaming in the forges glow. These are balanced and reliable, he said, pride evident in his tone. Twenty silver each. Petros whistled softly, eyes widening. Thats, uh, steeper than we expected. While Jack tried to haggle, Petros drifted to a nearby weapon rack. A newly forged sword caught his eyeits blade elegantly tapered, the hilt wrapped in dark leather. He trailed a finger along the metals flawless surface. Wow, he muttered under his breath, transfixed by its craftsmanship. Henry followed his gaze and nodded. That one took three days hard work. Commissioned by a traveler, so its not for sale. Petros exhaled, stepping back reluctantly. Its beautiful, he murmured. Jack appeared, patting Petross shoulder. Maybe someday. Right now, well have to pass on the daggers, Henry. Dont have enough coin just yet. Henry shrugged, a note of sympathy softening his gruff manner. Ill keep some aside if you change your mindbut good steel goes fast. He pointed a thick finger at them. Dont wait too long. Stepping back into the open air, Jack shifted the bundle of new clothes under one arm. Were practically broke, he admitted. If we want gear, we need more coin. Maybe we could, I dont know, hunt monsters for loot? Petros suggested earnestly, recalling how theyd scored coins and items from goblins. Its a risk, but better than letting ourselves get mugged again. Jack smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Thats the spirit: we get paid to rid the land of pests, and we level up in the process. He tapped his temple, eyes gleaming with determination. Its a classic win-win scenario. Petros nodded, face serious. And hey, maybe we can find easier beasts than goblins to practice on. He paused, a hint of nerves creeping into his voice. But after last night, I realize how shaky our teamwork can be if we panic. Jack grimaced, the memory of ropes and mocking laughter still fresh. We wont repeat that. Well train with Gondel, maybe pick up some close-range combat skillsand then see how we fare against actual monsters. They walked toward the village square, passing vendors setting up stalls of produce and trinkets. The hum of commerce filled the airfarmers exchanging coin, children chasing each other in dusty alleyways, traveling peddlers hawking wares from wagons. Amid this bustle, Jack and Petros felt a renewed sense of purpose. At least we have decent clothes now, Petros said, glancing at the newly purchased tunics folded under his arm. No more looking like ragtag refugees. Jack chuckled. We might still be ragtag, but at least well look the part of adventurers. He flexed an arm playfully. Well make do until we can afford actual armor and daggers. They paused for a moment by a notice board, scanning for bounties or jobs that might lead to quick coin. Most were mundane taskshauling supplies, escorting a merchant, or picking up farmland chores. Nothing overtly related to monster hunting, but it gave them ideas. Well figure something out, Jack said, turning away from the board. Lets meet Gondel at midmorning, see what hes got in mind for training. Petros nodded, clutching his new clothes a bit tighter. Yeah. Feels good to be you know, proactive. Jacks grin grew, stepping forward with renewed energy. Proactive. I like it. His gaze flicked briefly across the taverns sign in the distance. And with any luck, well soon graduate from novices who get tied up by random thugs to real adventurers. Though the path ahead was uncertain, the weight of their plantrain harder, gather resources, learn from Gondelkept them moving forward. And for Jack, at least, the days fresh start felt brimming with possibility no matter how dangerous the next challenge might prove to be. Jack and Petros returned to their tiny rented room at the Boar & Brew, new garments tucked under their arms. The warmth of midday light streamed through the single window, illuminating the humble space with soft gold. Dropping their recent purchases on the bed, they examined each piece like eager kids on Christmas morning. Jack lifted a sturdy pair of reinforced trousers, running his hand over the thick seams at the knees. Now this is an upgrade, he remarked with a grin. Mara really outdid herself. Petros, meanwhile, laid out his own seta pair of trousers, tunics, and a neatly woven belt. He gave the belt an experimental tug, pleased with its durability. Way better than wearing ragged scraps, he agreed, smiling appreciatively. They changed into their new outfits, each piece fitting snugly but comfortably. Jack pulled on new boots, stomping them against the floorboards to break in the soles. Feels good to not be half-barefoot, he joked, flexing his toes. Petros admired the tunic, which draped perfectly over his leaner frame. You think we look like real adventurers yet? he asked a playful note in his voice. Jack glanced at his reflection in the rooms small, dusty mirror. Were one step closer, I guess. He leaned over, rummaging in his pouch. Amazingly, it still held all their gearjournals, coins, and the worn skill bookdespite its modest size. These bag-of-holding deals are a lifesaver, he muttered. Exiting their room, they found Gondel waiting by the tavern entrance, walking stick in hand. He gave them an approving once-over, eyes lingering on Jacks polished boots and Petross well-fitted tunic. Well, dont you both look proper now? the wizard said, voice laced with dry amusement. Ready to begin? Jack and Petros exchanged nods, each brimming with a cautious determination. Lead the way, Jack said. They followed Gondel beyond the village gates, the morning sun casting long shadows along the dirt road. Once they were a fair distance from Pendle, Gondel halted and turned to them. Jack, I want you to venture into the woods and find a branch suitable for a staff. About your height, sturdy, straight. Youll know it when you hold it. Jack frowned slightly. Were splitting up? Gondel nodded. Petros has another task. Trust me; its necessary. He stabbed the base of his walking stick against the dirt. Go on. Well regroup here when youre done. Though reluctant, Jack sighed. Alright, just dont get into trouble without me. He cast Petros a brief grin, then vanished among the trees, footsteps crunching over fallen leaves. Left behind with Petros, Gondel turned down the main road, ignoring Petross questioning look. They walked in silence until the wizard led them onto a barely visible dirt path. Overhanging branches made the trail dim, but after a few minutes, Petros spotted a small, weathered house tucked into a clearing. What is this place? Petros asked, lowering his voice. Gondel offered no direct answer. He knocked gently on the door. After a moment, it creaked open, revealing an old woman with silver-white hair and eyes brimming with worry. She glanced from Gondel to Petros, hope and dread mingling on her lined face. This is Petros, Gondel said softly. Hes here to help. The old woman nodded, stepping aside. The interior was dim and spare, carrying a faint mustiness of disuse. Petross attention snagged on a small side room where three low cots were arranged. On them lay two children and a womanpresumably the old womans daughterbut Gondel guided Petros to the smallest figure, a girl of no more than five. Petross stomach clenched at the sight. The child was pale, her tiny form wracked with red sores. Her breathing was so shallow he feared she might have already passed. The old womans voice broke as she stood at the threshold, wringing a handkerchief in trembling hands. She wont last the hour, she choked out. The illness it took her father, and now its taking them. Tears stung the corners of Petross eyes as he stepped closer to the cot. Hed never witnessed such a dire condition, and dread pooled in his gut. He turned to Gondel, voice shaking. What do I do? Im no master healerIm not even sure my magic can fix something like this. Gondel placed a reassuring hand on the boys shoulder. You have a gift, ladone Ive never seen before. If anyone can save her, its you. Petros knelt by the girls side, hands hovering over her frail body. Closing his eyes, he reached for the comforting warmth hed called upon so many times to heal Jacks bruises or minor scratches. Yet, this time, fear and doubt walled off that power. The soft glow flickered faintly, then faded as the girls breathing shudderedand stopped. No! Petros cried, leaning in. A wave of desperation surged through him. He pressed an ear to her chest, hearing only silence. Come on! Gondel tried to pull him back. Shes gone, lad. Its too No! Petros roared, jerking away. Without a second thought, he recalled a basic first-aid method from his old life. He positioned his hands on the girls chest and began CPR, pushing rhythmically. The old woman let out a startled gasp, and Gondel looked on in stunned disbelief. This is madness, the wizard muttered, but he didnt stop Petros. Each compression hammered Petross own anxieties, the hush of the room pressing in. Breathe, he whispered, eyes stinging with tears. Come on, breathe. Suddenly, the girls body spasmed, sucking in a ragged gulp of air. Petros wasted no timehe placed his glowing palms against her chest, ignoring the fatigue that threatened to drag him under. The healing aura blazed brighter than ever before, flooding the cramped space with a near-blinding light. The red sores on the girls skin receded, color blooming in her cheeks. Petros felt his own strength slipping away, as though he were pouring out every last drop of magic he possessed. Yet he refused to stop until he felt the childs heartbeat steady beneath his touch. Then everything went dark as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him. When Petros regained consciousness, he found himself laid on a small pile of hay. The old woman hovered over him, pressing a cup of water to his lips. Gondel stood nearby, arms folded, staring at Petros with a mixture of awe and concern. You saved her, the woman whispered, tears shining on her cheeks. Shes alive. You truly saved my granddaughter. Petros struggled to sit up, every muscle aching. He glanced toward the cot, where the little girl now sat upright, bright-eyed and sipping broth from a wooden bowl. Relief surged within him like a tidal wave, and he sagged back in exhaustion. Gondel stepped forward, voice hushed. An extraordinary feat, lad. But power like that isnt free. If you keep giving your all like this, itll consume you. Petros swallowed hard, his throat dry. I I understand, he said, even though his mind still reeled from what had happened. Hed brought a child back from the brink of deatha feat beyond normal healing spells. In that moment, he finally comprehended the weight of his abilities. Saving a life felt incredible, yet it reminded him of the fragile line between heroism and self-sacrifice. Jacks words echoed in his mind: We need to believe in ourselves, but fear keeps holding us back. Petros realized fear wasnt just a barrier to magicit was also a reminder that his gifts, if overused, might destroy him from within.
Congratulations you have leveled up
Chapter 12: I think we make a pretty good team At sunrise, a soft, golden glow spread over Fort Harjil, the wooden palisades catching the morning light like embers. Asil stood at the heart of the training yard, arms crossed, an imposing figure in her simple but sturdy gear. Five newcomers lined up in front of hersome visibly eager, others tense and uncertain. A smattering of seasoned fighters lingered at the edges, curious about the forts fresh recruits. Asil surveyed them with a keen, appraising stare. Her tone was firm but not unkind when she finally spoke. Namesand if you have a specialty, speak up. She pointed to the young man at the far left, notable for his round spectacles and a lumpy backpack overflowing with scrolls and books. Eamon Ironwood, he said, pushing the glasses higher on his nose. Im, uh, not a fighter, per se. More of a researcher. Demon lore, ancient battles that sort of thing. A slight frown crossed Asils face. Well find a use for you, she said curtly, though her gaze held no maliceonly curiosity about someone with knowledge that could be invaluable. Next. Beside him stood a muscular woman with short auburn hair and a confident stance. Cressa Ironwood, she said, voice unwavering. Close-quarters specialistswords, maces anything that lets me fight up close. Asil observed Cressas strong build and the simmer of aggression in her posture. She inclined her head in approval. Good. We can use more frontline fighters. She looked to the next recruit. A lean young man with a sprinkling of freckles offered a casual salute. Rowan Emberlight, scout and ranger. Im your guy for tracking, stealthgetting out of tight spots. Asil arched an eyebrow at his irreverent grin. Well see if your mouth is as quick as your feet. Next. The broad-shouldered woman with braided black hair stepped forward, calm and resolute. Bethra Stonewall. Defensive tactics, primarily spear and shield. Asil studied Bethra for a moment, recognizing the self-assured way she held herself. A shield-bearer, then. We need that on the front lines. She let the last recruit step forward. He was lanky, with calloused fingers and a bow slung across his back. Gideon Thornfield, he said quietly. Archer, sirmaam. Asils lips twitched in mild amusement but remained stern. Well need every advantage we can get. Very well. She stepped back, sweeping a hard gaze over them. Youve traveled long. Rest, eat. At dawn, training begins in earnest. The newcomers broke formation, some wandering off to find a meal in the mess hall, others lingering to take in the forts surroundings. Eamon hovered at the perimeter, fiddling with a scroll half-sticking out of his backpack, while Cressa gave him an exasperated glancethough Asil noted how she never strayed far from his side. The established fightersFrederick, Martin, Stewart, Baum, and Cliveobserved the rookies with welcoming nods. Frederick, in particular, walked over to greet them, offering a few pointers on navigating the fort. The sense of camaraderie forming was palpableeven the older boys, once new themselves, knew how important it was to have allies in such a dangerous world. Asil watched it all from near the courtyard gate, arms still crossed, mind already planning tomorrows regimen. She spotted a flicker of fear in Gideons eyes and a flicker of excitement in Rowans. Theyre raw, she muttered to herself. But theres promise. True to her word, Asil stood in the training yard before the sun had fully broken the horizon. The five newcomers arrived in varying states of alertnessBethra and Cressa with steely determination, Gideon stifling yawns, Rowan cracking light jokes about the early hour, and Eamon rubbing bleary eyes but scribbling notes in his battered journal. Fall in, Asil called, her voice slicing through the quiet yard. One by one, they lined up. Well start with a spar to gauge your skills. Eamonshe nodded to himyou observe. Well find ways to use your expertise in demon lore soon enough. Eamon bobbed his head, relieved and perhaps a bit embarrassed he wasnt forced to fight. He settled on a wooden bench, pen poised above a blank page. Cressa was first, sword flashing in the early sunlight as she lunged at Asil with unabashed aggression. Asil blocked each blow with fluid precision. Cressas raw strength and speed were impressive, but the girls technique lacked refinement. Within minutes, Asil disarmed her with a deft twist, though not without earning a grudging nod of respect. Youre strong, Asil said simply, returning Cressas blade. But you lack polish. Well fix that. Cressa inhaled sharply, frustration warring with admiration. Yes, maam, she muttered, stepping aside. Rowan grinned as he faced Asil, adopting a light, springy stance. He darted in and out with impressive speed, feinting repeatedly. Yet Asils instincts cornered him before long. With a final surge, she pinned Rowans practice sword against the fence, forcing him to yield. Youre fast, Asil acknowledged, releasing him. But you rely too heavily on evasion. You must learn to strike decisively. Rowan raised his hands in mock surrender, an easy grin on his lips. Guilty as charged. When Gideon stepped forward, he looked uneasy without his bow. Asil tested him with a short wooden sword. He fumbled under pressure despite a few decent parries, and Asil quickly disarmed him. The flush on Gideons cheeks spoke volumes. Your archery skills might be solid, but youll need a fallback if enemies close in, Asil said, not unkindly. Well find you specialized training with Loren. Gideon nodded, swallowing hard. Bethra strode into the circle with an air of calm. Her spear and shield moved as one cohesive unit. At first, Asil assumed her usual advantage would surface quickly, but each thrust Bethra made was calculated and precise, each shield block near-flawless. Their spar escalated into a flurry of steel and wood; dust kicked up around them in swirling clouds. Not bad, Asil murmured, her heart pounding with genuine excitement. She ramped up the intensity. Bethra matched her, unwavering. Finally, Asil stepped back, breathing heavily, acknowledging the session was at an impasse. A slight nod passed between them, respect forging a quiet bond. Shes good, Asil thought, and might become exceptional if I push her. Throughout the matches, Eamon scribbled furiously, occasionally adjusting his slipping glasses. Hed glance at Cressa, a flicker of sibling exasperation crossing his face but also pride. As Asil approached him afterward, sweat glistening on her brow, she found the nerdy recruit had jotted notes on each newcomers style and potential strategies against demon types. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Interesting, Asil said, scanning his neat handwriting. Youve been busy. Eamon swallowed, cheeks pink. II just thought knowledge of how demons fight might help us adapt their training. A tiny smile ghosted across Asils lips. Keep at it. Well need every advantage. As the day wore on, the recruits found themselves forming a loose cliqueunited by the shared label of newcomers. Rowans playful banter balanced Cressas hard-nosed bravado, while Gideon tried to mask his nerves by keeping to the edges. Bethra kept mostly quiet, but her calm presence seemed to center them. Eamon flitted among them, notebook in tow, offering occasional lore tidbits that left even the forts older fighters listening in. Meanwhile, the established defendersFrederick, Martin, Stewart, Baum, and Clivestopped by to give advice or swap stories. A sense of welcome permeated the yard, forging an unexpected unity between novices and veterans. By sundown, the recruits trudged to the courtyards communal fire pit, fatigued but strangely exhilarated. They traded jokes and swapped bits of backgroundlike how Rowan came from a coastal settlement or how Gideon had grown up on a farm, dreaming of archery. Eamon sat cross-legged, discussing demonic legends with any who would listen, while Cressa silently sharpened her blade, occasionally cutting in to correct her brothers rambling facts. From a distance, Asil observed them, arms folded tightly. In the glow of the campfire, she saw potential coalescing. They were green, but they were ambitiousand in a world shadowed by Dark Woods and demonic whispers, that ambition might be the key to the forts survival. She allowed herself a brief, quiet moment of hope. Potential was everything. And in these new faces, she saw the promise of a future that might hold back the dark a little longer. The training yard thrummed with activityclashing blades, shouted commands, and the steady scuff of boots on dirt. Abby picked her way through the bustling scene, her eyes landing on Frederick at the far edge. He was practicing alone, sword slicing the air in a series of sharp, anxious strikes. Despite his confident stance, there was an undercurrent of restlessness, as if he were battling invisible demons in his head. Summoning a mix of courage and hope, Abby made her way over. Hey, Frederick, she called, letting the natural brightness in her voice mask her fluttering nerves. Mind if I join you? Frederick paused mid-swing, lowering his blade. A friendly smile twitched at his lips, but a faint shadow crossed his gaze. Sure, Abby. Always better to spar with someone than just shadow-fight. Abby slid her daggers free, adopting a loose, balanced stance. She knew her Shadow Dancer training gave her a speed advantage over almost anyone here, but she held back, timing her strikes carefully so as not to overwhelm him. Part of her wanted to connectbeyond just crossing swords. Frederick, oblivious to her deliberate restraint, started strong. Gradually, his jabs became more confident, the edge of self-doubt melting away. Youre quick, he said, grunting as he parried a slash. No wonder Asils been investing time training you. A pang stirred in Abbys chest at the mention of Asil. Careful to keep her face neutral, she deflected another swing. Shes an incredible teacher, Abby replied, forcing a casual tone. Ive learned so much from her She trailed off, playing along with the pretense that her skill came from Asil, not the mysterious journal. Frederick halted for a second, gaze flicking across the yard. Asil was visible near the forts walls, instructing a group of newcomers. His expression lit with open admiration. Yeah. The way she commands a fightheck, the way she leads the entire forts trainingis just inspiring. Abby tried to smile, though her heart sank a bit. Shes something, all right, she agreed softly. They continued a few minutes more until Frederick lowered his sword with a sigh, declaring the session a draw. Abby recognized it was more a concession than truth, but she let it pass. She only wanted to share a moment with him, even if his mind was clearly on someone else. Thanks for sparring, she said, sheathing her daggers. It was fun. Yeah, Frederick murmured. Well do it again. But his gaze was already drifting across the yard, seeking Asil. Later that day, Abby found herself in the mess hall, seated at a long wooden table with a steaming bowl of stew in front of her. She poked at it half-heartedly, mind lost in the earlier exchange with Frederick. Shed hoped to forge a more personal bond but ended up feeling overshadowed by Asils brilliance once again. Gideon approached tray in hand, shoulders hunched in typical shyness. Mind if I join? he asked, voice subdued. Abby managed a genuine smile. Of course. Have a seat. They ate in companionable silence until Eamon and Cressa arrived, carrying their own trays. Eamon, clutching a stack of books under one arm, offered an apologetic smile as he nearly bumped into the table. Heresit, Abby said, gesturing. More seats for more appetites, right? Cressa let out a weary chuckle, dropping onto the bench with a thump. Her auburn hair was damp at the edges from the days training. Long day, but a good one, she declared, lifting her spoon to her mouth. Feels like Im finally not flailing around. Eamon nodded, still balancing a tome in one hand. Fort Harjil is fascinating, he said, excitement coloring his voice. The forts old demon-sighting records alone would fill up half my library. I cant wait to dig further. Gideon glanced at Eamon with quiet amusement. Youre always reading, arent you? Even at mealtime. Eamon shrugged, cheeks flushing. Knowledge is power, right? Then he flinched as Cressa ruffled his hair, smirking at her twin. Youd better not forget how to actually survive a fight, bookworm, she teased, though the fondness in her tone was evident. Abby laughed, the sound more genuine this time. She enjoyed watching the Ironwood siblings banterCressas straightforwardness balanced by Eamons scholarly enthusiasm. You two are fun, she said, setting her spoon down. Its nice to have different perspectives. Not everyone here is blade-obsessed. Gideon nodded, his shoulders relaxing. We need fighters, thinkers everyone in between. Thats what makes a team strong, right? The conversation meandered from training anecdotes to glimpses of life before Fort Harjil. Rowans jokes occasionally drifted from a nearby table; every so often, Bethra passed by and added a wry comment, fueling the friendly chatter. Abby found herself slowly forgetting her earlier disappointment with Frederick. She was surrounded by new faces that, in their own ways, were just as warm and intriguing. By the time she scraped the last of her stew from the bowl, a gentle buoyancy replaced her gloom. You know, Abby said, leaning back, I think we make a solid group, even if half of us just arrived. Cressa raised an eyebrow, retorting with a playful smirk, Weve known each other for like, a day, Abby. Thats how it works sometimes, Abby countered, the corners of her mouth curving upward. You meet the right people, and it just clicks. Eamon smiled, nudging his glasses up his nose. A band of misfit recruitsunited by a bigger purpose, he mused. Has a nice ring to it. Gideon chuckled, lifting his mug of water in a mock toast. Ill drink to that. They clinked cupswater, ale, or teasealing a budding camaraderie. As the chatter resumed, Abby felt an unexpected warmth in her chest. While she might not have gained Fredericks attention, shed gained something else: new allies, genuine friends, and a place where she truly felt welcome. When dinner wrapped up, the group dispersed, some to bunk down, others to share a final drink by the hearth. Abby lingered at the table, staring into her empty bowl, thoughts drifting. She recalled Asils unwavering leadership, Jacks playful cunning, Fredericks subtle admiration for Asil, and now this new circle of recruits forging bonds around her. She thought were all just scrabbling for a place in this dangerous world. Rising, she gave Gideon a warm goodnight and patted Eamons stacked books in passingearning a laugh from Cressa, who teased her brother about reading himself to sleep. The foursome parted ways, each retreating to their quarters or late-night watch duties. Outside, the forts torchlights flickered against the dark silhouette of the distant woods. In that gloom lurked demons, ancient evils, and the unknown. Yet for the first time since arriving, Abby felt a measure of confidence. With Cressas formidable prowess, Eamons wealth of knowledge, Gideons quiet aim, and her own talents, she sensed they could stand against the shadows creeping at the edges of Aerothane. And in that hopeful note, she silently vowed to keep pushing forwardno matter what heartbreaks or challenges might lie ahead. Chapter 13: Now you want belly rubs? Jack picked his way into the leafy embrace of the forest, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see Petros and Gondel vanish down a winding path leading away from Pendle. Though hed known the boy for barely three days, their bond felt strangely strongtwo misplaced travelers trying to survive an incredibly ultra-realistic VR game that seemed more and more like a genuine world. Hell be fine, Jack muttered to himself, half in reassurance. Gondel will watch out for him. He forced himself to refocus, forging deeper into the woods, kicking aside fallen branches, and letting out huffs of annoyance with each unsuitable find. More than once, he paused, picking up what looked like a promising staff candidate, only to discover rot or hidden cracks. Come on, he murmured, frustration edging his voice. Wheres that perfect branch? After nearly an hour of aimless searchingand continuing to marvel at the insane level of detail the devs had poured into this environmentJack stumbled upon a sunlit clearing. At its center stood a massive oak, gnarled and ancient. Its bark seemed timeless, and though the branches carried no leaves, the tree did not appear dead. Instead, it radiated a quiet, solemn power. Whoa, Jack breathed, stepping closer. This is next-level artistry. The devs mustve spent weeks modeling this alone. He approached gingerly, scanning the ground around the oak for the ideal branch. Then, about fifty feet away, he spotted it: a fallen limb, thick and straight. A surge of excitement rushed through himmaybe this could be the staff Gondel insisted he craft. Just as Jack strode forward, two things happened at once: his journal buzzed at his side, and a low, menacing growl rumbled behind him. Fear spiked, freezing him in place. Dont paniclike last time with the thugs, his mind warned. He forced a swallow, slowly turning around with both hands raised in a gesture of surrender. Three wolves, each midnight-gray and bristling with tension, stood in a semicircle, eyes glowing with feral challenge. Jacks heart hammered. Three? Great. He tried to speak, but only a shaky squeak emerged. Nnice doggies? A flicker of text streaked through his consciousness from the journal:
Forest Wolf (Level 2) Forest Wolf (Level 2) Forest Wolf (Level 2) Alpha Forest Wolf (Level 4)
Jack felt his blood run cold. Alpha Wolf Level 4? He only saw three. So where was the fourth? Suddenly, two of the visible wolves began to prowl forward, hackles raised. The third, pacing behind them, bared its teeth. Jacks breath caught in his throat. No Petros to heal me this time cant do anything reckless. But the lead wolf, evidently hungry for a fight, sprang with a snarl. Chain lightning! Jack shouted, thrusting his arms outward. Electric arcs crackled from his fingertips, striking the lunging wolf mid-leap, then chaining to the second and third with a near-blinding flash. The lead wolf crashed to the ground just inches shy of Jacks face.
Forest Wolf (Level 2) has died. Experience gained.
Text blazed in his mind as the second and third wolves writhed on the grass, dazed. Jacks relief was cut short by a sudden, massive impact slamming into his back. He hit the ground with a gasp, the weight crushing the breath from his lungs. Something huge pinned him, a colossal paw against his shoulder. Hot breath fanned the back of his neck, accompanied by the reek of wet fur and primal musk. At first, Jack thought the warm splatter on his cheek was his own bloodbut the drool trailing down his jaw told him otherwise. A whimper of terror escaped his lips. The beast pressed its muzzle against Jacks ear. In a guttural, rasping growl that barely resembled human speech, it spoke: You do not belong here. Jacks eyes flew wide. A talking wolf? He tried to force words out, but his tongue felt numb. New meat, the wolf hissedor growledbreath rancid and heavy. It let out a near-laughing snarl, the muzzle grazing Jacks neck. Jacks heart hammered. A flicker of last nights ambush flashed through his mindthe sense of helplessness, pinned to the ground. But this time, he refused to give in to panic. N-not this time, he croaked, struggling to conjure lightning. With both arms trapped, he tried summoning electricity from his whole body, focusing on the spark that had barely saved him against the boars weeks ago. For a moment, nothing happened. The wolf gave a mocking rumble, something close to laughter. Then Jack felt it: the snap of pent-up energy crackling through every muscle. A shock wave of Chain Lightning erupted from him, sending blue sparks rippling in all directions. The Alpha Wolf roared in agony, hurled off Jacks back by the massive discharge. Jack scrambled to his feet, sucking in air. Dizzy from mana drain, he spun around to see the Alphalarger than the others, fur streaked with greyalready recovering, shaking its head to rid itself of the electric stun. Unreal. That shouldve fried it, Jack thought, alarm spiking again. Movement behind him made his blood freeze. The other two wolves had recovered from the initial chain lightning and were circling behind, cutting off any escape. He was surrounded. Jack clenched his teeth, refusing to be cornered. He locked onto the Alpha, now prowling forward with a limping gait, charred fur smoking in patches. Summoning the last dregs of his energy, he called down Fire Rain, swirling embers collecting overhead in dark clouds. Bolts of fiery ash plummeted from the sky, peppering the Alpha. It yelped, trying to sidestep the scorching embers but still took multiple hits. Each ember sizzled against burned fur and singed flesh. Still, the beast wouldnt yield. It charged at half-wolf speed, driven by pain and fury. Time for Earth Shatter, Jack decided, voice cracked from desperation: Earth Shatter! The ground rumbled beneath the Alphas paws, a jagged chasm opening under it. With a startled yelp, the wolf tumbled into the mini-pit, hind leg trapped as the earth sealed back up. A savage shriek tore from its throat as it gnawed its own leg free in its frenzy to lunge for Jack. Jack gasped, drained of nearly all mana, but with no time to rest. The wolf was battered but not dead, bounding forward in a final, blood-splattered leap. Jack raised his trembling hands one last time, calling Chain Lightning again. The blue arcs surged out in a furious web, colliding with the Alpha mid-jump. The energy blast flung the wolf backward, and the recoil dropped Jack to his knees from sheer exhaustion. Alpha Forest Wolf (Level 4) has died. Experience gained. Jacks vision blurred. Mana exhaustion slammed him like a tidal wave, and his body slumped. Vaguely, he registered the other two wolves watching from a distance, growling warily but not advancing. A bitter laugh escaped his cracked lips. At least I took down the big one He collapsed in the grass, consciousness flickering. As darkness closed in, he expected to feel fangs at his throat, accepting he might be these wolves next meal. Instead, he heard only distant snarls and the faint rustle of leaves. Then nothingness claimed him.
The sunlight slicing through the cottage window painted the interior in gentle gold, though the mood inside was anything but peaceful. Petros knelt on the floor, breath coming in quick rasps, an ever-present warmth still tingling in his hands. Hed just finished healing the elderly woman, who now stood flexing her fingers in disbelief. Me arthritis is gone, she murmured, eyes wide as she bent her knees experimentally, testing every joint. Despite her age, she moved with a vigor that startled even Gondel. Thank you, the woman whispered, voice trembling with gratitude. I Ive never felt this limber. Petros managed a weary smile. Healing the mother and eldest child had depleted his mana, but reversing the older womans chronic pain was more akin to a routine spellless drain than rescuing someone on the brink of death. Still, fatigue clung to his limbs like a leaden blanket. Just glad I could help, he replied, exhaling shakily. He sensed no lingering disease, only the faint echo of joint pain that had vanished under his healing aura. He gave her a slight bow of respect, then excused himself to find some fresh air. Stepping outside, Petros drew in a deep lungful of crisp forest breeze. The chaotic swirl of emotionsfear for the dying family, relief at their survivalmixed with a euphoric surge that always accompanied a successful healing. Exhaustion with a dash of victory, he thought wryly, letting the tension ebb from his shoulders. Curiosity fluttered through him, prompting a quick look at his journal. He flipped it open, scanning the newly formed text:
Congratulations! You have leveled up! You have reached Level 2. Reward: 20 copper coins. Reward: Simple Hooded Cloak. +1 Skill Point You have gained the skill: Life Surge. Your mana pool has increased.
A cloak? he murmured, half to himself. Sure enough, the moment he focused on it, Petross hand delved into his pouch and felt smooth fabric. He tugged the hooded garment out just enough to confirm it was reallike everything else from these quests. Shaking his head in marvel, he slid it back inside, not wanting to invite Gondels scrutiny yet. Petros then lingered on the mention of Life Surge. The memory of reviving the little girl a day earlier still haunted him. This skill formalized that abilityan ultimate healing technique. He gulped, rereading the description:
Life Surge (Level 1): Taps into a large portion of the casters mana pool. The caster may be left severely weakened or temporarily drained. Resurrection: By consuming a great deal of mana and a portion of the casters HP, Life Surge can revive a fallen ally, but only within a strict 60-second window after their fatal blow. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
A low whistle escaped his lips. Thats powerful. And terrifying. His journal scrolled anew, presenting attribute and skill options:
Strength Agility Endurance Intelligence Willpower Soul Mend Exorcism Spirit Guardian Life Surge
Petros considered each carefully. Jack had once mentioned leveling intelligence for bigger spells or faster mana regeneration. After all Ive done today, more mana regen sure sounds nice. Without hesitation, he circled Intelligence. A subtle rush coursed through him as if a fresh wind swept up his spine. He felt his mana pool surge, refilling faster than before. Much better, he muttered, rolling his shoulders. Then he hovered his quill over Life Surge, fighting the urge to invest his precious skill point in the brand-new ultimate. Ultimately, he decided to hold offit was already formidable enough, and he hardly understood its risks. No sense powering up a skill that might kill me, he mused with a half-laugh, flipping to the status page.
Human: Petros Levine Class: Spirit Warden Soul Mend (Lv. 1): Channels healing energy to restore allies health over time. Mana: High. No cooldown. Exorcism (Lv. 1): Devastating vs. undead or corrupted. Low mana. 10s cooldown. Spirit Guardian (Lv. 1): Summons ethereal protectors for 60s. Medium mana. 10s cooldown. Life Surge (Lv. 1): Instantly heals a large portion of allys HP. Revive fallen ally within 60s. High mana cost, drains casters HP.
Smiling, he was about to store his journal away when a thought struck him. He opened the book and flipped to the folded map. Unfurling it, he quickly spotted his icon right outside a tiny cottage surrounded by trees. Inside the house was four green dots and one yellow. Curious about who the yellow dot was, he dismissed the thought, looked around the map, and spotted Pendle; tracing the road, he saw Gondels campsite. Following the road, he spotted a green dot a ways north in a clearing. Smiling, he immediately knew that it was Jack. He also noted a drawing of an ornate tree in the middle of the clearing where Jacks dot resided. Next to the tree were symbols. He made a note to himself to find out about the symbols. He was about to rejoin the family when he noticed Gondel stepping out of the cottage, gently closing the door behind him. Petros hurriedly stuffed the folded map back into his pouch, startled to realize someone else had followed Gondela small child with wide eyes. In his haste, stowing away the ma,p he missed the yellow dot exiting the house at the same time Gondel showed up. You did well in there, boy, Gondel said, clapping Petross back with a paternal warmth. His gaze flicked to the bag slung over Petross waist. Ready to move? Petros nodded, adjusting the strap. The childapparently the older womans now healthy grandsonblinked up at Petros in awe, then darted back inside, leaving them alone. Gondels expression shifted from praise to something more suspicious, his gaze lingering on Petross pouch. Lets head back to where Jacks gone, the wizard said, starting down the path. But first, well make one more stop. They bid the delighted family farewell. The older woman pressed a bag of provisions on Petros, beaming with gratitude. He tried to refuse, but she insisted. With a shy smile, Petros tucked it under his arm. I wonder if itll fit in my bag of holding Soon they reached the main road, turning east toward the forest trails leading to Pendle. Petros fidgeted with the provisions sacka bit large for convenient carrying. He toyed with the idea of cramming it into his small pouch but hesitated. Should I reveal this to Gondel? Gondel paused at an unmarked, camouflaged path that branched off to his hidden campsite. Casting Petros a sidelong look, the wizard flicked his gaze between the bulky sack and the inconspicuous pouch. Im not sure why you keep fussing with that bag, he remarked with a wry grin, when you could just store it in your little dimensional item. Unless youd prefer to pretend you dont have one? Petros froze, color draining from his cheeks. Iuh Gondel chuckled, giving his staff a playful tap on the ground. Boy, Ive been around longer than most. I know a bag of holding when I see one. He reached out, ruffling Petross hair in a surprisingly affectionate gesture. No worries. Im not about to rob you. Cmon. Without waiting for Petross reply, Gondel headed off the road and disappeared into the brush toward his camp. Flustered, Petros exhaled. He unclasped his pouch, shoving the large sack of provisions inside with a single practiced push. The opening of the pouch shouldnt have been big enough, yet the entire bundle vanished into the endless interior. Guess the cats out of the bag, Petros mumbled, glancing down at the innocuous messenger bag slung over his shoulder. In his haste, he nearly forgot how unnatural it was. This world its insane. He followed Gondel, mind racing with questions about how the wizard recognized the dimensional storage so easily. Maybe hes more than just a half-drunk conjurer, Petros thought wryly. Maybe he was the real High Wizard
A coarse, wet sensation brushed across Jacks cheek. Groaning, he flailed a hand to swat whatever was tickling himonly to encounter warm fur and the distinct outline of a muzzle. Reality slammed back in a flash: he was in the middle of the forest, having collapsed after a brutal fight with the wolves. He jerked upright, heart hammering. Two massive wolves stood before him, panting quietly. Jacks first instinct was to summon electricity, a spark flickering between his raised fingers. Yet he paused, noticing neither wolf bared its teeth or hunched with aggression. Instead, they sat back on their haunches, tails giving quick, tentative wags. What the? Jack muttered. He let the static fizzle, lowering his hands slowly. One wolf rose and spun in a silly circle, padding forward to rub its muzzle against Jacks outstretched palm. The sheer improbability of it made him hesitatebut the creature only nuzzled closer, prompting Jack to give it a careful ear scratch. The second wolf whined as though demanding equal attention. In seconds, Jack found himself on the grass, laughing in pure astonishment while two huge predators licked his face and nudged his hands, as friendly as a pair of oversized dogs. You two were terrorizing me not an hour ago, he remarked, breaking into a grin. Now you want belly rubs? He shook his head at the absurdity but couldnt deny the warmth flooding his chest. After a bit, Jack stood, dusting himself off. He raised a cautious hand, and both wolves sat like obedient hounds, gazes locked on him. An incredulous chuckle escaped his lips. Stay, he said experimentally. To his amazement, they stayed. A smile tugged at Jacks mouth. Guess were friends now, he mused, pulling two biscuits from his pouchleftover from breakfast. Good boy, he cooed, tossing one biscuit to each wolf. They devoured them immediately. Relief gave way to curiosity. Jack slid his journal out, scanning the glowing text that had gone unread:
New Quest: Defeat the Forest Wolves to collect the branch Forest Wolf (Level 2) Forest Wolf (Level 2) Forest Wolf (Level 2) Alpha Forest Wolf (Level 4) Forest Wolf (Level 2) has died. Experience gained. Alpha Forest Wolf (Level 4) has died. Experience gained. Forest Wolves see you as the new Alpha. You have bonded with Forest Wolf (Level 2). You have bonded with Forest Wolf (Level 2). Quest Complete: Defeat the Forest Wolves to collect the branch Reward: 70 copper coins added to your pouch Reward: Simple Hooded Cloak added to your pouch Experience gained. Congratulations! You have leveled up! You have reached Level 3. You have one new skill point. You have two unspent skill points. Loot Forest Wolf (Level 2)? Yes / No Loot Alpha Forest Wolf (Level 4)? Yes / No
Jack blinked, mind reeling at the revelations. New Alpha? The pair of wolves still panting happily at his side seemed to confirm it. Alright, he breathed, circling Yes on both loot prompts. Text rolled through his awareness:
25 copper coins added to your pouch Simple wolf hide added to your pouch 47 copper coins added to your pouch Uncommon wolf hide added to your pouch Alpha Forest Wolf Core added to your pouch
At the last line, Jacks heart skipped. Alpha Forest Wolf Core, he read aloud, rummaging in his pouch. The moment he envisioned the core, his hand closed around a warm, disc-shaped crystal, pulsing with faint energy. A subtle aura radiated from it, sending tingles through his fingertips. A monster core? Jack marveled, flipping open the journal again.
Monster cores are concentrated magic essences dropped from creatures level 4 and above. They vary in potency: - Basic beasts yield lesser cores - Elite/Alpha beasts yield more powerful alpha cores Some Uses: Ability enhancements, currency, or advanced recipes.
Nice. Jack gave a low whistle, tucking the core back safely. Mana crystals that could enhance spells or gear? That was next-level loot. He stowed the journal, making a mental note to allocate skill points later. For now, he grinned, retrieving a hooded cloak from his pouch as wella quest reward. He slipped it over his shoulders, relishing the snug, comfortable fit. Donning his new cloak, Jack strode with renewed confidence toward the ancient oak. There lay the fallen branch hed spotted before everything went haywire. Hefting it experimentally, he appreciated its solid weight and unwavering core. Even the bark felt dense and unyielding in his hands. Yeah, he murmured, tapping it against the ground, this could make a sweet staff. He briefly used it as a walking stick, striding toward the southern edge of the clearing. Yet after just a few yards, a whine behind him made him stop. Turning, he caught sight of the two wolves trailing at a distance, eyes filled with something akin to concern. Oh, right, Jack said, raking a hand through his hair. What do I do with you guys? One wolf ambled up timidly, licking his outstretched fingers. Jack scratched behind its ear in reflex, but worry flitted across his mind. Bringing wolves into town was hardly wise. Yet their unwavering gaze told him they wouldnt simply vanish. Lets see if this works. He crouched between them, meeting their golden eyes. You can come along, but keep hidden, alright? No scaring villagers. Go do your own thing if you need to huntjust dont kill friendly people. Understand? The wolves panted, silent but intent. Jack nodded, standing up and pressing the branch into his pouch with a grin. He knew it shouldnt fit, yet the wood slipped out of sight in seconds. The wolves cocked their heads as if acknowledging this odd magic. Stay out of plain sight near the road, he added, wagging a finger. Im trusting you. One wolf let out a half-bark, half-growl, sounding suspiciously like acceptance. Jack chuckled. Alright, new pack, let''s get moving. By the time Jack reached the main road, the wolves had melted into the tree line, visible only if someone really tried to spot them. Jack sat on a fallen log by the roadside, cloak rustling in a mild breeze, feeling a surprising sense of calm. A day ago, hed been pinned by an Alpha Wolf and nearly eaten. Now, he commanded a tiny entourage of forest canines. The gentle hush of mid-morning surrounded him. Birds chirped overhead, and faintly in the distance, the ring of a blacksmiths hammer from Pendle. Every so often, Jack sensed the wolves presence beyond the foliage as though they watched him from the undergrowth. Guess were in this together, he murmured. He gazed down the empty road, waiting for signs of Gondel and Petros returning. Wind rustled the leaves, and he let out a soft laugh, acknowledging the improbable bond hed just forged. The future felt uncertain, especially with demon threats in Aerothane, but for now, he held on to a small triumph: new gear, new power, and the respectmaybe even loyaltyof two forest wolves. Not a bad days work, Jack quipped, pulling out his Alpha Wolf Core for another quick look. Not bad at all. He closed his fist around the warm crystal, letting hope spark through him like the lightning he commandedready, in his own way, for the next challenge that would surely come. Chapter 14: No Turning Back The command room of Fort Harjil was a cramped, dimly lit space overflowing with maps, scrolls, and the sharp scent of ink. Oil lamps cast flickering shadows on the walls, illuminating the anxious faces of those gathered. Asil sat at the large wooden table, posture straight and gaze keen. To her left, Loren leaned on his cane, lines of pain etched across his brow, but his eyes steeled with unyielding resolve. Next to him stood Bonvil, a tall, broad-shouldered man whose weathered features suggested a life of hard decisions. At his side lingered Jon, lanky and serious-faced, his fathers determination mirrored in his tense stance by the door. Geri says Im healing, Loren said, voice clipped but firm. A faint grimace crossed his face as he shifted his weight on his injured leg. But that demon attack left its mark. This limp is permanent, and I cant train the recruits like I used to. Asil observed the cane in his hand, recalling how hed pushed through every injury for the forts sake. Youve done more than enough. Let me handle the day-to-day training. You can still command the men and oversee defenses. They trust you. A flicker of relief passed over Lorens features, though admitting his limits visibly pained him. Aye, he said, exhaling. But thats not our only concern. He turned his gaze to Bonvil. Tell her the rest. Bonvil stepped forward. His deep voice carried the weight of grim news. While Jon and I were traveling, recruiting new blood, we heard rumors everywheregoblins wandering roads in packs, wolves said to have glowing eyes, even talk of demons creeping from the Dark Woods. His jaw tightened. Not just in these parts either. We got word from travelers heading north and south, same stories. Asil felt her stomach knot. Her mind raced to her own demon encountersthe sense of a threat larger than any single fortress. Ive seen the signs. Its not idle chatter. Theyre growing bolder, attacking in bigger numbers. We cant hold off an entire horde alone. Loren nodded gravely. Well need allies. Fort Warren to the north, Fort Brynn to the south. All of them were once strongholds like ours, but times changedresources dwindled. If we unite, we might stand a chance. Bonvil crossed his arms, the flicker of an old soldiers worry in his eyes. Warrens the nearer fort, maybe two or three days away. But the roads are dangerous, and we cant spare too many fighters. Asil squared her shoulders, expression resolute. Ill lead a team to Fort Warren. We can leave in a weekthatll give us time to prepare supplies and choose who goes. Its risky, but risk is all we have left. Loren exchanged a look with Bonvil, then nodded. Do it. But choose carefully. We cant afford to lose anyone, not now. Asil stood, glancing at the tattered map pinned to the wall. Count on it. She could feel Lorens eyes on her, a silent thanks that she was taking up the mantle he could no longer carry alone.
Meanwhile, the buzzing energy of Fort Harjils training yard gave way to the warm bustle of its kitchen. Pots clanked, fires crackled, and the mouthwatering scent of stew filled the air. Abby, apron dusted with flour and smudged with herbs, stirred a large pot simmering over the hearth. Nearby, two young orphansTobin, nine, and Serena, twelvesat at a small wooden table under the soft glow of a lantern. Tobin kicked his legs absently, an arithmetic sheet in front of him, random doodles decorating the margins. Serena, her brow furrowed in concentration, copied lines from an old lore book, carefully shaping each word. Abby? Serena asked, voice tentative. Can you help me with this word? Resilience? Abby set down the ladle and stepped over to peer at the text. It means the ability to keep going, even when everythings tough, she explained gently. Serena nodded a determined glint in her eyes. Kinda like what we did after we lost our parents, she murmured, voice quivering just a touch. Abbys heart twinged at the reminder. Exactly, she said softly, placing a reassuring hand on Serenas shoulder. Youve both been through so muchyet here you are, learning, helping. Im proud of you. Tobin perked up, gaze locked on the practice dagger strapped to Abbys hip. Dyou think well ever be as strong as you or Asil? he asked, eyes wide with a flicker of longing. Abby tussled his hair, smiling. Maybe stronger. Keep at it, and youll surprise even Asil. Serena offered a small, grateful smile, then buried her nose back in the dusty lore book. For a time, the trio worked in companionable silenceAbby returning to her stew, Tobin finishing scrawled sums, and Serena flipping pages, mind abuzz with fresh vocabulary. Later, the light outside had dimmed, the kitchen lantern becoming the main source of illumination. Abby finished stacking cleaned bowls, only to notice Serena staring, transfixed, at a small candle on the table. The flames dance became unnaturally bright, throwing elongated shadows across the walls. Abby froze, breath catching in her throat. Magic? Here? Serena, she asked quietly, stepping closer, did you do that? Serena glanced up, cheeks tinged pink. II just wanted it brighter. Is that bad? she whispered. Abbys mind spun. Shed recognized that flicker of powerthe same subtle feeling shed once had when discovering her own abilities. Adrenaline flooded her veins. Taking a steadying breath, she crouched down beside the girl. Not bad, Serena. Just surprising. She forced a smile, voice gentle. Can you try again? Serena nodded tentatively, gaze flicking back to the candle. The flame rippled, then brightened a fraction more, bathing the entire table in warm light. Abby swallowed, heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and worry. Another mage how? She placed a hand on Serenas shoulder, meeting her eyes. Thats incredible. But maybe keep it quiet for now, okay? Well figure out what it means together. Serena nodded, eyes darting to the door as though expecting someone to barge in. Yes, maam, she replied, voice barely above a whisper. Our secret. Abby straightened, mind whirling with questions. What if Asil or Loren found out? She didnt doubt the forts acceptance, but with tension rising across Aerothane, any emergent magic drew both awe and suspicion. Ill protect her, Abby vowed silently, hugging Serena in reassurance. You did nothing wrong, she said firmly. Serenas shoulders relaxed, relief mingling with the thrill of discovering her power. Nearby, Tobin glanced up from his arithmetic, sensing the hush but too wrapped in puzzling out a math problem to ask. Abby gave him a soft pat on the head, grateful for the momentary peace.
As the evening wore on, Abby and the siblings finished tidying the kitchen. She watched them head off to their shared sleeping quarters, Tobin yawning widely while Serena carried the battered lore book under her arm like a treasured secret. Left alone for a moment, Abby leaned against the hearth, mind buzzing with tomorrows tasks. She was no stranger to odditiesthis entire game world bristled with thembut stumbling onto a magically gifted child felt especially crucial. Does this tie into the demon sightings? She shook her head, uncertain. Outside, the fort had settled into a lull, lanterns dotting the walls. Soldiers kept vigilant watch, the distant ring of metal from the armory a reminder that constant preparation was the new normal. A swirl of intangible tension clung to the air, an unspoken fear that demons or monstrous creatures might strike again at any moment. Were all bracing for a storm we barely understand, Abby thought, stepping away from the warmth of the hearth. But maybe thats what resilience ispressing on, one candles flame at a time, no matter how dark. Clutching that fragile sense of determination, Abby vowed to speak to Asil soon about these new developmentsFort Warren and Serenas budding power included. For now, shed let the children sleep in peace, letting tomorrows revelations come in their own time. The fort might be battered, but hope glimmered here and thereamong orphans forging a new life, and in the bright spark of a girl discovering magic for the first time.
Evening dimness cast long shadows through the barracks room where Asil and Abby sat on their bunks. The soft scratch of quill on parchment and the occasional rustle of pages were the only sounds as they pored over their journalsthe strange tomes that guided their powers in a land otherwise starved of magic. Abby glanced up from her scribbled notes, a faint smile lighting her face. Hey, check this out, she said, flipping to her status page and holding it up for Asil to see:
Human: Abigail Levine (Level 3) Class: Shadow Dancer Power Drawn: Shadow Energy (energy from the Shadow Realms) Shadow Meld (Level 2): - Blend into nearby shadows, gaining invisibility + movement speed. - Duration: 10 seconds after initial attack. - Cost: Low Shadow Energy. - Cooldown: 10 seconds. Backstab (Level 1): - Appear behind a target for massive critical damage. - Cost: Medium Shadow Energy. - Cooldown: 20 seconds. Ebon Echo (Level 1): - Create an illusory double to confuse enemies + coordinate attacks. - Cost: High Shadow Energy. - Duration: 20 seconds. - Cooldown: 60 seconds.
Youve come a long way, Asil observed, leaning in to read the details. Remember when we first got here? You were so unsure about how real this VR world was? Abby snorted softly, recalling their initial confusionboth enthralled by the game mechanics yet unnerved by how lethal it all felt. Yeah. But all those demon hunts at nightexhausting as they werereally leveled me up. She tapped the lines about upgrading Shadow Meld. Ive poured my skill points into Willpower, to bolster my shadow energy regen, and its paid off. A glimmer of pride warmed Asils expression. And youve earned every bit of it. She then opened her own journal, scanning the lines of text with a practiced eye:
Human: Asil Hart (Level 4) Class: Blade Dancer Power Drawn: Stamina Whirling Slash (Level 2): - Spin forward, damaging nearby foes. - Cost: Medium Stamina. - Cooldown: 10 seconds. Phantom Step (Level 1): - Short-distance dash or teleport for repositioning. - Cost: Low Stamina. - Cooldown: 10 seconds. Crescent Strike (Level 2): - Sword arc imbued with mystic energy, slicing multiple enemies. - Cost: High Stamina. - Cooldown: 30 seconds.
Level four, Asil murmured, a hint of satisfaction coloring her voice. Not bad for she paused with a small chuckle, an old lady. Abby let out a playful laugh. Youre hardly old. More like seasoned. She remembered the day Asils last sword nearly disintegrated from the energy surge of Crescent Strike. You definitely push your gear to the limit. Asils brow furrowed in a momentary grimace. I do. Ive funneled skill points into Stamina for quicker regen and upgrading Whirling Slash and Crescent Strike. But I need a stronger sword if Im not to break every blade I touch. Abby nodded in sympathy. Well, youre unstoppable with a decent weapon. Id hate to see what youd do with a really good one. The brief levity ebbed as Asils expression turned serious. Speaking of unstoppable, I need to fill you in on the meeting. Lorens injuries mean he cant train the forts recruits like before. She summarized her talk with Loren, Bonvil, and Jon, explaining the plan to travel to Fort Warren for potential alliances, given the rising monster sightings across Aerothane. Abbys eyes narrowed, recalling the rumors of demon encroachment. Thats probably wise, she said. Id volunteer in a heartbeat. And maybe she paused, mind racing, we bring Frederick, Cressa, Gideon, and Eamon. Theyve proven they can work together. Asil considered each name, her expression thoughtful. Frederick has the stamina to keep morale high, Gideons our ranged cover, Cressas a frontline powerhouse, and Eamons knowledge of demon lore or old references might come in handy. She gave a decisive nod. Ill mention it to Loren and Bonvil. The following dawn broke clear and bright, the training yard echoing with clashing steel and shouted drills. By midmorning, Asil had pulled Cressa, Gideon, and Eamon aside, with Abby standing at her shoulder. This is a simple patrol, Asil told them, her gaze sweeping across the small group. Well skirt the Dark Woods perimeter, see if theres anything suspicious. Treat it like a test run to see how you coordinate. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Cressas face lit up with anticipation. Finally. Ive been itching for real action. Gideon rested a hand on his bow, his expression subdued but intense. Any known threats? he asked quietly. Asil shrugged. We cant be sure. Possibly wolves, goblins, or something new. The point is to stay alert and watch each others backs. Eamon shifted his backpack full of scrolls, adjusting his glasses. Ill try to identify any unusual tracks or signs of demonic corruption. Ive been combing through old bestiaries all week. Perfect, Asil said. Lets move out. They set off, the sun climbing higher as the fortress gate closed behind them. The rolling plains around Fort Harjil soon gave way to dense foliage, the distant line of the Dark Woods looming. As they walked, a comfortable banter welled up: Cressa ribbed Eamon about being a scholar in armor, Gideon chimed in with dry wit, and Abbys easy laugh helped smooth the edges of any tension. Eventually, the tree canopy thickened, gloom settling across the underbrush. Asil raised a hand to halt them. Were near the territory where sightings have spiked. Gideon murmured, Ill take the rear, keep an arrow nocked. He stepped back, scanning for threats. Eamon knelt, brushing aside leaves to reveal a set of strange prints. Could be goblins, he whispered. But bigger than the usual size. Asils hand moved to her sword hilt, lips pressed tight. Everyone keep close. Abbywhy dont you scout ahead? Abby nodded, letting the shadow around her swirl. With a soft exhale, she activated Shadow Meld, melting into the dimness. The hush of the forest magnified every rustle of leaves, but her footsteps were silent as a breeze. She advanced fifty paces, scanning for movement. Satisfied there was no immediate threat, she signaled for the rest to follow. Cressas mace rustled in the foliage, but she remained vigilant at Eamons side, ready to intercept any ambush. Gideon moved like a ghost, arrow already on the string. Over the next hour, they circled the woodland perimeter, encountering only one stray wolf that Gideon dispatched with a swift arrow. The group functioned seamlessly, each role complementing the others: By mid-afternoon, Asil called for a return. Weve learned a bit, she said, voice calm but pleased. No major threats spotted, but we found fresh signs of goblin presence. Enough to report back. They traced their steps back toward Fort Harjil. The sun began dipping low, casting a golden hue over the forests edge. When at last the forts gate rose into view, Asil halted them, nodding approval. Not bad, she said, eyes flicking across the four recruits. You handled yourselves smoothly. No panic, no confusion. Good synergy. Cressa smirked, rolling her shoulders. Told you we could hold our own. Gideon gave a curt nod, carefully unstringing his bow. Feels like a solid team. Eamon pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the weight of his reference tomes shifting in his backpack. Ill document the tracks we saw and see if I can confirm goblin types or weird mutations. Abby grinned, her Shadow Dancer gear dusted with forest soil. Honestly, Im just glad no demons popped up. Next time, we might not be so lucky. They traded small chuckles, relieved tension dissipating as they walked under the forts walls. Asil followed behind a flicker of pride warming her usually reserved face. This was precisely the cohesion they neededsomething that might hold strong in times of crisis. As they stepped through the gates, each member was more confident. Asil sensed they were one step closer to holding Aerothane together against the growing darkness.
A week slipped by in relative calm, Fort Harjil settling into a steady rhythm of watch rotations, combat drills, and tutoring sessions for the younger orphans. Tobin and Serena adapted well to their new lifethough Serenas undiscovered spark of magic flickered in secret. The new recruits grew closer, forging friendships amid the daily routine. In the evenings, Loren guided Asil in perfecting her command style, his leg injury limiting him physically but not dulling his sharp tactical mind. Youve taken to this naturally, Loren remarked one evening, studying the training schedule spread across the table in the command room. Despite the cane braced under one arm, his posture radiated authority. I couldnt have asked for a better successor. Asil placed a finger on a list of recruits, noting each days drill. Im just following your lead. I still feel like Im filling shoes I can never quite match. Lorens lips twitchedan unspoken mix of pride and regret. I trained you to surpass me, not match me. He turned toward Bonvil, who leaned against the wall with arms crossed. How about you? You think were ready for this journey? Bonvil nodded, though his expression remained pensive. The team youve assembledAbby, Cressa, Gideon, Frederick, and Eamontheyre strong. They complement each others strengths better than most ragtag squads Ive seen. And Fredericks grown, though its tough letting him out of my sight. A gentle warmth filled Asils eyes. Frederick will handle himself. Hes proven it time and again. Bonvil sighed, rubbing at the gray in his stubble. I know. But hes my son. Hard not to worry. The morning of departure dawned crisp and bright, the suns rays glinting off the forts palisade. Near the gates, Asil and her chosen group gatheredAbby adjusting her daggers at her waist, Cressa rolling her shoulders in anticipation, Gideon quietly checking his bow, Eamon juggling a few last-minute scrolls, and Frederick tightening the straps on his gear. Loren approached, cane tapping lightly on the packed dirt. Bonvil stood beside him, a mix of fatherly pride and anxious tension in his stance. Stay sharp out there, Loren said, voice low but carrying. Fort Warren hasnt answered any missives in twenty years. No telling what shape theyre inif theyre in any shape at all. As the group prepared to leave Fort Harjil, Loren cleared his throat. One more thing, Asil, he said quietly, holding out a cloth-wrapped bundle. His grip on his cane tightened as he continued, I, uh commissioned this a few weeks back from Henry over in Pendle. I was waiting for the right time to give it to you. Well here. He lifted the parcel toward her, cheeks coloring slightly at the emotion constricting his words. Asil accepted it with a puzzled frown. Carefully unwrapping the fabric, she revealed a magnificent sword. The blade gleamed even in the subdued morning light, its polished steel etched with subtle, winding patterns reminiscent of Fort Harjils crest. The hilt bore a carved wooden griplikely oaksecured by intricate silver filigree that caught the sun in delicate flashes. Asils breath caught at the swords balance as she tested a few quick swings. The weight felt ideal in her hand, both sturdy and agileperfect for a Blade Dancer. Loren, I dont know what to say, she murmured, her voice thick with gratitude. She glanced from the blade to the older man, then impulsively closed the distance, wrapping him in a fierce hug. Taken by surprise, Loren half-laughed, half-wheezed. He returned the embrace as best he could with one arm, the other gripping his cane to steady himself. When Asil finally released him, he cleared his throat, blinking a little too fast. Youve more than earned it, he managed softly, turning his head to hide the threatening tear in his eye. Truth was, Loren and his wife Geraldine had no children of their own, and theyd always treated the recruits as family. But Asilalong with Abbyhad become something akin to daughters to him these past few weeks. That paternal bond made this moment all the more meaningful. He sniffed once, setting his jaw. Fight well out there, he said, patting the edge of the shining blade. And come back safe. Asil nodded, expression solemn. Well send word when we can. She glanced around the group. All rightmove out. Having a sword already at her waist, she moved the gift to her pouch for safekeeping. With the delicate balance of her Crescent Strike ability, she did not want to ruin this sword until she figured out how to protect the weapon. They set foot on the gravel road, leaving the fort behind. The first day passed with little incident, the flatlands unfolding in a patchwork of rolling fields and distant woodlands. As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, they chose a small clearing for camp, building a modest fire to ward off the chill. Abby stirred a metal pot over the flames, its savory aroma wafting through the gathering dusk. Not bad for trail grub, she said, ladling stew into wooden bowls. Cressa scoffed good-naturedly. Beats the watery soup back at the fort. Eamon, hunched over a battered tome in his lap, glanced up with a wry grin. I, for one, happen to enjoy the forts soupif only because it means Im not stuck with raw forest mushrooms in the middle of nowhere. Frederick rolled his eyes. You would, he teased, a faint smile brushing his lips. Gideon sat quietly, sharpening an arrowhead, tension etched in his brow. After a moment, he glanced up. Anyone else feel like were not alone? Like someones watching us? The conversation died, replaced by the soft crackle of the fire. Asils hand drifted to her sword hilt. You see or hear something? Gideon shrugged, his voice tight. No, just a gut feeling. Maybe its nothing. Asil surveyed the surrounding darkness. The fields lay silent, only the rustle of tall grass in the breeze. Yet her instincts coiled, remembering how creatures in Aerothane could appear from nowhere, especially at night. Well do double watch, she decided, nodding to Abby. Better safe than sorry. They hunkered down around the fire, finishing the stew in tense quiet. Asil organized them into shiftsCressa and Eamon first, Gideon and Frederick second, Abby and Asil last. One by one, they slipped off to their bedrolls, the star-flecked sky arcing overhead. The night passed without any reveal of the phantom eyes Gideon had sensed, but a lingering unease settled in their bones. Dawn arrived painted in rosy pinks and soft gold, a chilly wind sweeping across the plain. They packed up camp swiftly, pressing on. A direct route led them straight toward Fort Warren, avoiding both Pendle and the Dark Woodsthe latter a place of rumors and creeping dangers. The road was lonely, trodden by few travelers, made more suspicious by each new rumor of roving monsters. Walking in a loose formation, Asil, Frederick, and Cressa took the lead, discussing tactics and the best approach if they found Fort Warren in disarray. Abby lingered closer to Gideon and Eamon, occasionally drifting ahead to scout whenever the terrain allowed. They held an easy pace, leaning on the camaraderie forged through training. Frederick broke a lull in conversation. You think Fort Warrens still loyal to Lorens cause? His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed curiosity. Asil shrugged, scanning the horizon. Well find out. Its been two decades. If theyve survived without outside help, they might be different. Cressa chuckled darkly. Or they just tossed Lorens letters on the fire for warmth. Frederick let out a short laugh, though tension lingered in his features. Guess well know soon enough. A shrill, triple whistle from ahead cut him off. The entire group stilled, every muscle tensing. Abbys signal. Spread out, Asil commanded, voice low but urgent. Cressa, youre with me. Frederick, Eamon, slip into the brush. Gideoncover our flank. They moved like a well-coordinated unit. Eamon nudged his glasses up, slipping behind a bush with Frederick. Gideon nocked an arrow, scanning for movement in the scraggly tree line. Asil and Cressa advanced cautiously, weapons at the ready. Silence descended like a shroud. Even the wind hushed, as if the land itself held its breath. Asils grip tightened around her blade, heart pounding. If Abby spotted something Minutes stretched, and no foe emerged from the thinning wood. No snap of a twig or guttural snarl. Cressa shot Asil a questioning glance. Asil shook her head but didnt lower her sword. Stay sharp, she mouthed. Somewhere out there, Abby was hidden in shadows, watching for threats. The absence of chaos felt unnervingly wrong. Asils mind flickered to the rumors Bonvil mentionedwolves with glowing eyes, demon sightings, monstrous hybrids. Could something be lurking right outside their line of sight? Cressa whispered, False alarm? Asils expression remained grim. Abby wouldnt raise that signal unless she was certain. Keep vigilant. They found the clearing by middaya swath of toppled trees and makeshift barricades. Under the dappled sunlight, a swarm of large goblins, each standing taller than any typical breed, scurried about, piecing together crude huts and an unfinished guard tower. Wood piles and rough-cut logs littered the clearing, while raised platforms suggested early attempts at fortification. Asil, crouched behind a fallen trunk with the rest of her team, took stock of the scene. Abby was already invisible, somewhere among the shadows, her Shadow Dancer training keeping her concealed. Asil scanned the clearing, quickly identifying each goblins position. There had to be at least a dozenno, moreeach armed with jagged blades or improvised clubs. The savage formation spread nearly in a semicircle, with five gathered in the center near a smoldering fire pit. Twelve maybe thirteen, Asil hissed, turning to Cressa, Gideon, Frederick, and Eamon. Theyre setting up a base. Right between here and the road north. Gideon squinted, perched in a nearby tree with an arrow already nocked. Theyre too close for comfort. If they hold this spot, they could ambush anyone traveling to Fort Warren. Eamon adjusted his glasses nervously. Its actually well-placed. Potentially controlling traffic between the forts if left unchecked. Asil nodded, heart pounding. We cant sneak around them if we plan to keep the roads safe. using hand signals they previously practised she gave direction: Cressa would handle the three goblins to the right, the ones already stacking logs for a secondary barricade. Gideon would pick off the four near the half-built wall. Frederick and Eamon remained togetherFrederick to protect Eamon and dispatch any stragglers. Asil herself would strike the five goblins milling around the center, including what looked like a bigger onepossibly a chieftain. Wait for my signal, she murmured. The moment I engage, the rest of you go. Asil caught the faintest flicker of Abby creeping behind a burly goblin sentry, the stealth nearly flawless. She suppressed a smirk of prideAbby had come far. Taking a steadying breath, Asils journal flashed in her minds eye:
Goblin (Level 3) Goblin (Level 3) Goblin (Level 4) Goblin (Level 4) Goblin (Level 3) Goblin (Level 3) Goblin (Level 3) Goblin (Level 4) Goblin (Level 3) Goblin (Level 3) Goblin (Level 4) Goblin (Level 3) Alpha Goblin (Level 5)
Her pulse quickened at the sight of so many. No turning back. Summoning a calm focus, she activated Phantom Step, blinking right into the midst of five goblins near the central fire pit. The moment she reappeared, she pivoted into Whirling Slash, a razor-edged spin that cut into four goblins simultaneouslyincluding the hulking Alpha. Chaos ripped through the clearing. A guttural cry from the goblins rose as they realized they were under attack. Simultaneously, Abby struck from behind. Her Backstab sank deep into a guards spine; it howled, flailing in confusion at an attacker it couldnt see. Still invisibly cloaked for a few more seconds, Abby darted around its body, landing rapid, precise jabs. The goblin whirled and swung its crude club, but Abby ducked low, driving both daggers into its unarmored side.
Goblin (Level 3) has died. Experience gained.
She exhaled, allowing her cloak of shadows to fade. Another goblin spun toward her, only for Abby to vanish behind a stack of fallen logs, weaving a dance of illusions and daggers. High in a tree, Gideon remained steady. He loosed four arrows in fluid succession, each whistling through the air to impale three of the goblins along the half-built wall. One reeled, arrow embedded in its eye, collapsing instantly. Another collapsed with a shaft through its throat. A third took two arrows to the chest and fell mid-scream.
Goblin (Level 3) has died. Experience gained. Goblin (Level 3) has died. Experience gained. Goblin (Level 3) has died. Experience gained.
The fourth goblin there dove behind a plank of hastily nailed boardsGideons arrow only severing its ear. Snarling in pain, it never saw Frederick leap from the brush. With a single, precise slash, Frederick lopped its head clean off.
Goblin (Level 3) has died. Experience gained.
Eamon, crouched behind Frederick, let out a shaky breath as he watched the goblins head roll. Good job, he managed, swallowing hard. On the right flank, Cressa barreled into her three targets before Asils Whirling Slash had even finished. Her mace crunched into the first goblins skull, the impact fierce enough to send bone fragments flying. She spun, yanking a short blade from her belt to gut the second goblin. Blood spilled across the ground as it staggered back, futilely clutching its intestines. The third, narrowly missed by her blow, roared in fury and slashed a jagged sword at Cressas face. She twisted away, though the jarring shock reverberated through her arm. Now both wounded goblins circled her, the second trying to keep its insides from spilling out. Not so easy, Cressa hissed, pushing through the pain. She surged forward with a savage jab to the uninjured goblins groin, even as she braced for the others blade But that blade never came. With a swift blur of motion, Abby appeared, driving her daggers into the reeling, gut-shot goblins head. It collapsed in a final gurgle.
Goblin (Level 3) has died. Experience gained. Goblin (Level 3) has died. Experience gained. Goblin (Level 3) has died. Experience gained.
Cressa nodded her thanks, breathing hard. Nice timing. Abby grinned, flicking blood from her blades. I like to make an entrance. At the center, Asil faced four Level 4 goblins and the towering Level 5 Alpha. Shed already cut down two of them in her initial whirlwind, the journaling system flashing confirmations in her mind:
Goblin (Level 4) has died. Experience gained. Goblin (Level 4) has died. Experience gained.
But three remainedtwo battered Level 4s and the Alpha. The lesser goblins swung their crude swords relentlessly, forcing Asil to weave and dodge. Each slash sapped her stamina. The Alpha hurled a makeshift club that Asil narrowly evaded, clattering to the ground behind her. Asil slashed across one goblins neck, fluidly evading the Alphas heavy swing. The second goblin reeled backward, choking on its own blood.
Goblin (Level 4) has died. Experience gained.
Before Asil could pivot, the Alpha elbowed her viciously in the back, knocking her to the ground. Her sword clattered away. Gasping, she rolled sideways to avoid the Alphas stomping foot. At the last second, she angled a dagger upwarddriving it deep into the beasts sole as it came down. The Alpha howled in agony. Snatching up her sword, Asil spun to dispatch the final Level 4 goblin. She rammed the blade under its jaw, pushing the tip out the top of its skull.
Goblin (Level 4) has died. Experience gained.
That left her with the Alpha, staggering but alive. It roared, ignoring the dagger lodged in its foot, and glared at Asil with murderous intent. Suddenly, its muscles bulged, eyes glowing a sickly red. The beast lurched upward, adding nearly a foot to its height.
Alpha Goblin (Level 5) has activated Rage
Asils heart clenched at the text blazing in her mind. This cant be good. She barely had time to suck in a breath before the massive creature charged, moving twice as fast as before. Its gnarled teeth bared in an unholy grin. The Alphas raging cry reverberated through the clearing, echoing off fallen logsand signaling the fight had only just begun. Chapter 15: Don’t Rune it Jack Gondels base camp was little more than a makeshift cabin, fashioned from knotted branches and half-rotted planks. Inside, dim firelight revealed a cramped interior piled with odds and ends, battered tools, and the occasional arcane trinket hinting at Gondels past life as a High Wizard. Petros followed him in, cradling a sense of both awe and unease. Come along, boy, Gondel commanded, his raspy tone underscoring a long night of little sleep. He stepped toward a large trunk in the corner, rummaging inside with a single-minded focus. One by one, he yanked out books, either stacking them on a nearby table or tossing them dismissively back into the trunk. Satisfied, he handed the stack of tomes to Petros. Your first lesson is to study these, he said, turning away to grab a metal pot and a pair of tin mugs from a rickety shelf. I expect you to actually read them. Petros reflexively reached for his pouch, intending to store them. Yes, sir, he began, but Gondel cut him off. Now, boy, the wizard repeated, filling the pot with water from a bucket on the floor. Not tomorrow, not next week. Sit and read. Petros opened his mouth to protest. But Jack might be waiting for us Before he could speak, Gondel pushed past him and strode outside, placing the pot over the campfire. Unsure how to argue, Petros reluctantly set the books down on the rickety table, exhaling a soft sigh. Better not to ruffle his feathers. He glanced at the top book: Chronicles of the Sevenfold Seal: Binding Magic from Ages Past. Actually, that sounds fascinating. Though anxious to rejoin Jack, Petros had always been something of a bookworm, devouring any lore that crossed his path. Still, he couldnt help but pull out his map for a quick lookjust to see where Jack was. Sure enough, the small icon representing Jack had moved away from Gondels camp, heading roughly in the direction of Pendle. Petross shoulders loosened a fraction at that. At least hes still moving. He was about to fold the map back up when he noticed two green dots trailing behind Jack from the tree line. Shaking his head, he folded the map and refocused on the book. Chronicles of the Sevenfold Seal, he read silently, opening the coverIime to do some reading.
Meanwhile, Jack sat on a fallen log by the roadside where Gondel had instructed him to wait. They had agreed to regroup once Gondel finished whatever mysterious chore he had for Petros, but the old man might be occupied longer than expected. The midday sun beat down gently, a breeze stirring leaves in the otherwise silent stretch of dirt road. Jack had pulled the sturdy oak branch from his pouch and laid it across his lap. He ran his palm over its rough texture, letting his mind wander. Its so peaceful here, he thought, the hush utterly unlike the busy hum of Phoenix, Arizona. A far cry from the swirling chaos of wolf raids and goblin skirmishes too. A small smile tugged at his lips as he mused on Asil, recalling her determined grin in every fight. Shes probably leveled higher than me already, he guessed, imagining her forging alliances or maybe even ruling a kingdomthis VR game seemed to hold limitless possibilities. Memories washed over him: Asils first time playing Shadow Realms 3, the countless nights theyd spent laughing at her learning curve, her unstoppable rise into a mighty warrior within months. Jack had set aside the game for her back then, focusing on real life, only to be drawn back in by Asils unstoppable enthusiasm. Now, he thought wryly, were living in the biggest update of SR ever createda genuine MMORPG thats almost too real. Jack chuckled, recalling how hed always gone for dual-wielding swords in the older games. Now he was an Elementalist, reliant on spells that tore through enemies but drained his mana fast. No Petros around to top off his health if he botched a fight, though. He felt an odd stirring of curiosityAsil had always dived deep into quest text, rummaging through lore to find hidden secrets or synergy combos. What if I took a page out of her book? He set the branch aside and closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. If the game truly recognized consistent practicelike advanced VR or somethingmaybe he could replicate those online guides on meditating for better mana flow. At first, his mind buzzed with stray thoughts: did Petros need help? Were those wolves still there? Could Asil be forging an empire by now? But as he calmed his breathing, the background noise of nature heightened his senses. Leaves rustling, a distant birdcall, each stone on the road. He felt the faint presence of his two wolf companions nearbybrother and sister, quietly napping under the shade of the trees. Theyre not going anywhere. A wave of contentment rippled through him. Thats when he noticed something newlike a subtle mental link bridging him to the wolves. He concentrated, and the link strengthened, letting him sense their emotions: calm, safe, but watchful. He reached out with an unspoken greeting, gratified by their warm acceptance. They need names, he thought. The male seemed smaller, with a chewed ear. The female, bigger, eyes two different colorsone brown, one blue. Moving carefully, Jack conjured mental images of the wolves. For the smaller male, an idea popped into his head: Saul. It was a simple name, but it felt right. He focused the thought, broadcasting it through the bond. The wolf stirred, tail wagging in mild approval. A soft grin spread over Jacks face. Saul it is, he said quietly, easing back against the log. Now the female She was larger, more self-assured, sporting that unique heterochromia. Jack scratched at the back of his head. Blue? Brown? He tried matching her eyes to colors or names from real life but drew a blank. Oddly enough, he felt a hazy block in his memoryhe couldnt recall certain words from back home. Is that an effect of the VR pods? Or just stress? Minutes stretched on as he tried name after name. Luna? Ebony? Rhea? Nothing quite resonated. The wolf shifted in her nap, slightly whining as though anticipating his mental call. Yet he couldnt settle on anything that truly fit. Jack let out a frustrated sigh. Why is this so hard? he muttered. The female wolfs eyes slowly opened, glancing in his direction from within the tree line. He gave her a half-smile but remained at a loss, the perfect name hovering out of reach. He closed his eyes again, brow furrowed in concentration. Why cant I remember certain references from home? With a flash, the memory of his stepsons name slipped just beyond his grasp as well, fueling an uneasy sense that he was forgetting parts of his old life. He clenched his fists, determined not to lose more. Yet, as the sun climbed higher and the quiet forest loomed around him, he discovered the name for the female wolf refused to materialize in his mind. Suddenly, a thought crystallized into a stronger resolve: this wolf wasnt meant to remain by his side. He closed his eyes and reached out through the subtle mental bond hed discovered. Go find her, Jack thought, picturing Asil in his mindher confident stance, her fierce blade, her unwavering gaze. Bring Asil to me if shes lost. In response, the female wolf stirred, eyes opening. She sniffed the air, stood, and stretched with a languid grace. The moment she rose, she padded over to Saul and nudged himan affectionate lick against his ear as if saying goodbye. A pang of sadness rolled through Jack; separating the siblings felt cruel. But I have to do this, he told himself. If she is lost, bring her here But I know shell find me in her own time. With that final, silent nudge from Jacks mind, the she-wolf slipped away, disappearing into the undergrowth without a backward glance. Jack inhaled a shaky breath. He was missing Asil more than he cared to admit, and somehow, sending the wolf to her made it feel like a piece of him was reaching out across the land, bridging the severed distance. Alone nowexcept for Saul, who dozed contentlyJack settled back in his meditation. A part of him recalled Asils approach to magic: thorough, inquisitive, tireless. Time to give that method a try, he told himself. He focused on his breathing, tuning out the rustle of leaves and the midday chirp of forest birds. He felt the soft pulse of mana that had grown steadily within him since he first cast Fire Rain. The severed nature of Aerothanes magic, paradoxically, did not hamper himhe was an outsider, immune to the blockade that stunted native-born mages like Gondel. At first, he sensed only a familiar swirl of elemental power. But as he pressed deeper, the world slipped away, replaced by a thick darkness. It felt viscous, as though he waded through black tar. A flicker of primal fear suggested he should stop. This is just a game, right? he reminded himself, pushing onward. Gradually, he spotted a spark in the distancea tiny glow against infinite dark. He swam toward it, breath catching as the glow expanded into the shape of a towering tree formed from brilliant blue light. The trunk radiated swirling arcs of energy, each branch glimmering with arcs of electricity or flickers of flamerepresenting the spells Jack had awakened. Far below, the roots extended into something immeasurably vast, like a cosmic reservoir. He took a hesitant step closer. Fear gnawed at him againsome external force, perhaps the ancient wards of Aerothane, urging him to retreat. But Jacks defiant streak flared. Since when did I listen? Reaching out, he placed both hands on the glowing bark. A thunderous surge of raw mana rushed through him, so potent he almost expected searing pain. Instead, he felt an overwhelming satisfactionthe sense of connecting to a power beyond mortal bounds. He sank his hands deeper, feeling the Source itself whisper at the edges of his understanding. For a split second, he glimpsed everything: the severed lines of magic, the faint leaks returning magic to newly born children, the roiling shadow realms that gave life to monstrous invaders. Jacks final epiphany formed, and yet it remained incompletea notion that this is not a something. He couldnt finish the thought. Then it all overwhelmed him: too much knowledge for his current level or mortal mind to withstand. He jerked away, flung several feet as though an explosion had blasted him. The luminous vision shattered, leaving him gasping in the infinite dark of his meditation. The ephemeral illusions of the Source dissolved like a fleeting dream. Lying at the base of his mana tree, he noticed a pulsing branch on the ground, seemingly just broken off. It resembled the oak branch hed taken from the forest clearing. Curious, he reached out and lifted it, surprised by how solid it felt. A jolt of energy shot through him the instant he touched itso intense it wrenched him from his trance. When he finally opened his eyes, he lay sprawled on the forest floorphysically unchanged but thrumming with fresh insight. What was that last realization? The memory teased him, almost in reach but gone. Groaning, Jack staggered up, still reeling from the mental whiplash. He felt an unfamiliar warmth thrumming within the oak branch hed left nearby. Glancing at it in confusion, he confirmed that the staff was indeed the same solid chunk of wood. Yet he sensed tiny tendrils of energy weaving through the grainlike the intangible branch hed taken from the glowing mana tree. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Did I bring something back with me? he breathed, running a hand over the bark. It radiated a faint, rhythmic pulse that echoed his own mana. All illusions? Or did he genuinely adapt a piece of the Source? He didnt have time to unravel that mystery. A slight sound to his left startled himSaul, stirring from sleep, padding over with a soft whine. Jack gave the wolf a gentle stroke behind the ears, letting out a sigh filled with longing. I know, buddy, Jack murmured, hugging the wolfs neck. We both miss her. He meant Asil for himself, but for Saul, it was his sisterthe female wolf who had left to find Asil. The wolfs presence offered a quiet comfort, and for minutes, they stayed like that, man and beast leaning on each other. Eventually, Jack rose, though he allowed Saul to keep close. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in ambers and reds. He realized that a full day had likely passedtime was elusive in this ever-shifting reality. An idea struck him. Gondel might not reappear soon, and Petros was presumably safe at the wizards camp. Checking his map, he confirmed his location was a short trek from Pendle. Sure enough, Petross icon remained at Gondels campsiteaccompanied by a curious yellow dot that presumably marked Gondel. Yellow typically means neutral, but shouldnt he be green by now? Eh, Ill figure that out later. He shrugged and stowed the map, carefully gripping his newly imbued oak branch. Time to head back to Pendle, he said aloud, patting Sauls flank. You know the drillstay out of sight, and Ill see about a raw steak for dinner. Saul wagged his tail, spinning in an excited circle. Then, the wolf bounded into the sheltering treeline, leaving Jack free to travel the road without causing panic among villagers. Jack adjusted his hooded cloak, forging onward with staff in hand. A fleeting worry nagged him: that revelation in his minds eyeThis is NOT a But the thought remained half-formed, forgotten in the haze of his abrupt ejection from the mana tree. Brushing it aside, he focused on the present. Maybe Ill figure it out tomorrow And so he walked, the last rays of daylight stretching before him, a new staff in his grip and a swirl of unknown power simmering beneath the barka prelude to a deeper mystery he hadnt yet begun to unravel. Making his way down the winding path, Jack felt a familiar buzz at his side, the subtle vibration signaling new updates from his journal. Why cant this world give us an actual HUD? he mused, recalling how most RPGs displayed status notifications in plain sight. He swapped the oak branch in his hand for the journal, realizing he must have missed earlier alerts while hed been lost in meditative focus. Flipping open the cover, Jacks eyes widened at the scroll of new messages:
You have learned Mage Meditation. Experience gained! You have learned Basic Mana Control. Experience gained! You have tapped into the source, ??? ??? ??? You have received Mana Branch. Mana Branch has merged with Oak Branch and is ready to be formed into a Mage Staff. Congratulations! You have leveled up! You have reached Level 4. You have one new skill point. You have three unspent skill points. Congratulations! You have leveled up! You have reached Level 5. You have one new skill point. You have four unspent skill points. Congratulations! ??? ??? You have ??? ??? ??? ??? ???
Jack blinked at the barrage of question marks, a tangle of unknown data. He thought with a bemused shrug that must be a bugor something Im not supposed to see yet. He scratched his head, trying to decode the partial messages, then checked his status page:
Human: Jack Hart Class: Elementalist Level: 5 Concept: Specializes in the raw forces of naturefire, ice, lightning, earth, wind. Playstyle: High-damage, AoE attacks; vulnerable if rushed. Signature Abilities: - Firestorm (Level 1): Call down a localized rain of fire. Cooldown: 0 seconds. Low mana consumption. - Chain Lightning (Level 1): Electrify multiple foes at once. Cooldown: 0 seconds. Low mana consumption. - Earth Shatter (Level 1): Splits the ground, sending shockwaves. Cooldown: 60 seconds. Medium mana consumption. - Mana Control (Level ?): ??? ??? ??? - Mage Meditation (Level ?): ??? ??? ??? Four unspent skill points.
Holy I jumped two whole levels? he muttered, grinning despite the mystery. I guess that trance was worth something, after all. Without further hesitation, he allocated two skill points to mana regenerationhoping for longer spell-casts and quicker replenishmentthen one point each to Firestorm and Chain Lightning, bringing both to Level 2. Gondel might know what these blank abilities do, he said under his breath, storing the journal. Setting aside his momentary confusion, Jack continued toward Pendle, fresh questions swirling in his mind about the merged Mana Branch and those cryptic messages. Whatever they meant, his power had spikedand that was enough motivation to keep moving forward. Entering the outskirts of Pendle, Jack noticed Henrys forge first. It felt like weeks since he and Petros had stopped by to inquire about daggersyet it had only been a single, whirlwind day. So much has happened, Jack mused, shaking his head. An idea struck him, and he veered toward the blacksmiths shop. Inside, the heat radiating from the forge was intense, the rhythmic clang of metal on anvil echoing in the enclosed space. Henry stood at the far side, hammering away at a piece of glowing armor. Jack couldnt help recalling how, earlier that morning, he and Petros had lamented their lack of funds to buy any of Henrys exquisite weapons. Now, however, he had something else in mind. When Henry noticed Jack, he paused mid-swing, wiping sweat from his brow. What can I do ye for? the big man asked, voice gruff but not unfriendly. Jack cleared his throat, feeling a flicker of self-consciousnessthis is a mere NPC, right? Yet the mans imposing presence felt all too real. II was hoping I could pay for the use of your woodworking tools, he said carefully. I need to shape a piece of wood into a staff. Henry cocked an eyebrow, gaze flicking from Jacks meager gear to the battered cloak draped over his shoulders. Thats irregular. Last I saw, you and that lad hardly had two coppers to rub together. Jack grimaced, remembering how theyd turned down Henrys pricy daggers. But then he recalled the Alpha Wolf hide in his pouchthe one hed looted after that deadly encounter. Without hesitation, he pulled it out. How about this? he offered, holding the pelt forward. A spark of interest lit Henrys eyes as he carefully inspected the rare hide. Hmm This is fine workand you cut it clean, he murmured, obviously impressed. Whered you come by such a trophy? Jack shrugged, glancing aside. Ran into trouble on the road, he said simply, remembering the savage fight with the alpha wolf pack. Anyway, if its worth anything, Im happy to trade its value for some workshop time. Henry kept studying the pelt a moment longer, mouth set in a contemplative line. Aye, this is rare indeed. More than enough to let you use me tools, no coin needed. Out backs a workbenchyoull find what you need there. His eyes never left the hide, as though he was already envisioning how to repurpose it into top-tier gear. Jacks relief was palpable. Thank you, he said, voice brimming with genuine gratitude. Following Henrys instructions, Jack headed through a rear doorway to a small courtyard behind the forge. A plain wooden bench sat in one corner, lit by the late afternoon sun. An array of carving knives, planes, and chisels hung neatly on the wall. Jack gathered a handful of the finer tools and laid his oak branch out on the bench with something akin to reverence. He passed his hand over the rough bark, recalling how the branch now resonated with that mana branch discovered in his meditative vision. Deep down, an image of the finished staff crystallized in his mindlike a memory. Lets hope my instincts hold up, he mused. Using a small hand plane, he carefully scraped away the bark, revealing the smoother wood beneath. Each motion felt almost ritualistic, and he stayed alert to any special knots or natural curves that gave the weapon character. Once the bark was off, he switched to finer sandpaper and chisels, smoothing out edges and accentuating the natural grain. The results were a blank canvasclean but still exuding personality in its contours and knotholes. Then an idea hit him: runes. He remembered how Asils weapon in SR3 was etched with runic symbols. Pulling one of the finer carving knives from the toolset, he began tracing the ancient glyphs. At first, his mind went blank, but then a single symbol flared into focus. He carved it, lightly infusing a trickle of mana as he did so, feeling the staff hum in response. Dont rune it, Jack, he muttered with a wry grin at his pun. The second rune came to him just as naturallyhe etched it, too, letting his instincts guide him. One by one, twelve runes formed a ring of designs around the staff, each with its own subtle energy. At some point, his journal buzzedlikely awarding him Experience or new skill notificationsbut he ignored it. He was in the zone. Henry poked his head out once, nodding in approval. He even dropped off a small plate of food and drink, which Jack barely touched until the carving was done. Finally, Jack set down the carving tool and stepped back to admire his work. Twelve runes, each pulsing faintly. A sheen of sweat coated his arms, but a glow of satisfaction filled his chest. Henry sidled up, clapping a massive hand on Jacks shoulder. Thats mighty fine craftsmanship, he said appreciatively. I see I guessed right about youtheres a real skill in those hands. The blacksmith then set a small toolbox on the bench. That hide you brought me is worth more than a simple loan of me workspace. So I rummaged through salvage from old commissions. He opened the box, producing a gorgeous metal finial shaped like a stylized ring that could hold a gem. Figured thisd make a perfect top for your staff. Next, he brought out a steel cuplike a reinforced cap. Thisll go on the bottom end, he explained. Prevents fraying, plus if you whack someone with it, youll do real damage. Jacks eyes widened. I wow. I cant thank you enough, he managed, touched by the generosity. Were basically strangers, but hes giving me so much. This NPC sure felt like a real human. He accepted the pieces reverently. Aye, well, consider it your payments worth, Henry said with a faint grin. Theres also varnish and beeswax-linseed mixture in that box. Should keep the wood polished and hardy. Jack set about completing the staff, carefully varnishing the carved wood and sealing the runes. Then he affixed the steel cup at the bottom, the finial at the topleaving a slight gap in the metal ring for a future gem. By the time he finished, the sun had dipped low enough to cast long shadows across the yard. Content with his progress, Jack tidied the tools and returned them to their exact spots on the wall. Finally, he joined Henry near the forge, where the blacksmith offered a simple meal. They ate together, exchanging stories: Henry recounted how hed come to Pendle years ago, preferring a quieter life that allowed a healthy flow of commissions. Jack listened, quietly nodding at the mention of deliveries to Fort Harjilthe next day, Barrow would be hauling a finished sword out there. Fort Harjil, Jack echoed. Thats near the Dark Woods, right? Petros and I had heard rumors. I wonder if we should visit or well, maybe after I see what Gondels up to. Henry shrugged. If you do head that way, best be ready for trouble. Monsters roam thick near them woods, or so travelers say. After finishing the meal, Jack rose, staff in hand, feeling a surge of pride at how it turned out. Thank you again, he said. Youve been more than generous. Henry nodded, stashing the rest of the dinnerware. If you ever get the coin, come back for those daggers your boy was eyein. Ill cut ye a deal. Til thenstay alive out there. Jack shook Henrys hand, then left the forge, staff balanced across his shoulder. Nightfall approached, with lamplights glimmering along Pendles main street. He mulled over Henrys mention of Fort Harjil and the rumors swirling about the Dark Woods. It could be a real adventureand maybe a clue to what Asils up to. Or perhaps Petros and Gondel held the next step. For now, he strolled through Pendle, noting how the villagers bustled with evening chores. The staff felt comfortably weighty in his grip, every carved rune reminding him of how far hed comeand how much further he had to go. Tomorrow might bring new answers or new mysteries, but at least now he had a weapon. Chapter 16: Only Death Waits Within The alpha goblin roared, its guttural cry echoing through the forest as rage consumed its bulky frame. It charged forward like a rhinoceros, but unlike a beast needing distance to build speed, this monstrosity went from a standstill to a full sprint in an instant. Its colossal body blurred with terrifying velocity, and its targetAsilhad barely a moment to react. She dove to one side, rolling with trained precision, but still caught a glancing blow from the goblins meaty thigh. The force spun her agile roll into a vicious tumble, the impact rattling her bones. She slammed into the ground hard enough to jolt the breath from her lungs. Scrambling upright, sword still in hand, Asil glanced over at the alpha goblin. In its rage-fueled momentum, the beast had overshot its mark and crashed headlong into a massive tree. The trunk splintered under the collision, shards of bark and wood erupting into the air. The goblin staggered, stunned but swift to recover, turning its bloodshot eyes back on Asil. For the first time, the alpha goblin paused to register the carnage around it. Its underlingsa dozen lesser goblinslay dead and mutilated on the forest floor, scattered like abandoned rag dolls. An incoherent shriek tore from its throat at the sight of its fallen brood. But as it considered charging again, it hesitated. Its foe was no longer alone. Asil steadied herself, heart pounding, sword raised. In her peripheral vision, she saw Cressa and Abby taking position on her left, Frederick and Gideon on her right. Their faces were hardened with resolve. The alpha goblin roared, a deafening challenge that seemed to shake the very leaves overhead. Asil allowed a tight, grim smilethis time, she had backup. Bellowing, the alpha goblin sprang into motion once more. Its massive feet tore up chunks of earth as it barreled straight for Asil. Instead of darting aside, she dropped prone, letting the beast thunder overhead. In the split-second between its strides, she thrust her sword upward, slicing into the creatures groin. Blood splattered across her blade, the goblins momentum dragging it forward as it howled in pain. Immediately, Gideon struck. Leaping to one side, he released an arrow with lethal precisionfinding the goblins left eye buried deep into the socket. Simultaneously, Cressa sidestepped the beast, her mace swinging with brutal force against the goblins right knee. A sickening crunch signaled the joints shattering, and the alpha goblin stumbled with a guttural snarl. That vicious impact threw Cressa off balance as well. She spun from the momentum, but Abby caught her, bearing the brunt of the collision. Though smaller, Abbys deft footwork turned the collision into a minor tumble rather than a disastrous fall. Cressa shot her a nod of thanks, quickly regaining her stance. The alpha goblin sank to one knee, crippled by a shattered leg, half-blind from Gideons arrow, and bleeding profusely from Asils earlier strike. Yet its rage refused to subside. It reached for some final spark of murderous strength. Abby capitalized on its hesitation, shadow-stepping onto the goblins broad back, activating her Backstab skill. Her dagger plunged into the monsters remaining eye, the blade biting deep. But even half-blind and mortally wounded, the alpha goblin proved deadly. With a guttural snarl, it snatched Abbys arm mid-air as she tried to somersault away, flinging her aside like a ragdoll. She crashed into the ground, rolling to a sudden haltmotionless. ABBY! Asils anguished scream echoed through the clearing. Fear spiked in her chest, warring with a surge of fury. She wanted to dash to her friends side to check for a pulse, but the alpha goblin was already groaning its way upright, blindly fumbling toward the noise of Asils voice. It roared again, a guttural chorus of pain and hatred, and lurched forward. Slower now, but still monstrous. Asil forced herself to stay focused, sword raised. She let out a scream of her ownher voice raw with rage. The two forces charged each other head-on. At the last possible second, Cressa slid in front of Asil, dropping to her knees. Asil pivoted, placing a foot on Cressas shoulders and springboarding off her. She soared overhead as she activated Crescent Strike. Mana flared around her sword, forging a bright, lethal arc in midair. Steel met flesh with a flash of light, slicing cleanly through the goblins thick neck. Its final roar truncated into a gurgling rasp. The alphas head toppled away, its massive body slumping in a final, heavy crash across the bloody forest floor.
Asil landed in a deft roll, coming up on one knee. The sword hilt crumbled to dust in her gripanother blade ruined by the sheer power of her strike. But she wasted no time lamenting it. Her gaze darted across the clearing, zeroing in on Abbys limp form. Cressa barely managed to dodge the headless goblin corpse as it slid, momentum spent at last. Around them, the forest fell abruptly quiet, no more roars or clangs of steel. But for Asil, the battle wasnt over. She dashed to Abby, her heart pounding with fear, ignoring her wounds in a rush of concern. Victory hung in the airbut the cost remained unknown until she knew Abby was safe. Asil sprinted to Abbys side, panic twisting her gut as she fell to her knees beside the unmoving form. Abby lay face-down in the dirt, limbs splayed at awkward angles. Fear hammered through Asils chest as she carefully turned her over, bracing for the worst. A weak groan escaped Abbys lips. Give me ten more minutes, Mom, she muttered, voice strained but unmistakably alive. Relief surged through Asil, so potent it left her momentarily lightheaded. She ignored Abbys half-joke, quickly patting her friends arms and legs to check for major wounds. No broken bones, no severe bleedingonly bruises and shallow cuts. Sighing with shaky gratitude, Asil gave Abby a light smack on the shoulder in mock admonishment. Without another word, she helped her friend up, folding her into a fierce hug once Abby was sitting upright. The rest of the group converged around themCressa and Gideon on one side, Frederick and Eamon on the other. Weariness lined their faces, but relief took center stage. Cressa rested a hand on Abbys back while Gideon gave Asil an approving nod. Even stoic Eamon managed a small smile. Frederick, of course, unleashed his usual excitement, bounding on his toes. That was awesome! he exclaimed, eyes shining. Abby was over there, thenWHAMover here! Then Asil was like swoosh! and Cressa was like CRASH! and AsilAAAAA slash! He mimed each strike with exaggerated swings of an invisible weapon, grin infectious. A soft laugh rippled through the group, tension easing at last. Asil helped Abby to her feet, supporting her as she gingerly tested her weight. Ow, ow, ow, Abby muttered, rolling her shoulders. Everything hurts, but Im still in one piece. Asil nodded, concern laced with firm practicality. We should movejust a short distance, at leastsomewhere not littered with dead goblins. She scanned the bodies strewn across the forest floor. Well rest for an hour before pressing on to Fort Warren. They traveled about fifteen minutes through the woods, eventually finding a shallow creek with a grassy bank. The water ran clear and cool, an inviting contrast to the battlefields grime. Taking turns, the team washed off blood and sweat. The adrenaline faded, replaced by exhaustion and quiet chatter. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Gideon and Frederick lay on a soft patch of grass, promptly drifting into half-asleep stupors. Cressa, kneeling by the creek, scrubbed dried gore from her mace and arm guards. Eamon leaned against a tree, flipping through his notebook to record tactical notes on the alpha goblin. Abby and Asil, meanwhile, found a spot to sit side by side. Pulling out their journals, they each claimed their battle rewards. Abby frowned at a new entry, popping open two glowing orbs in her palm. Says here these are Goblin Cores. Low-level monster cores dropped by Level 4 creatures or higher? Asil nodded, consulting her own haul. Same hereI got two Goblin Cores plus an Alpha Goblin Core. The journal mentions they can be currency or used to level up abilities. And apparently, there are more obscure uses we can discover. Both women had also leveled up from the fight. Asil reached Level 5, Abby Level 4. They spent skill points on their respective energy pools to speed regeneration, and Asil allowed herself a small smile. Upgrading Crescent Strike had proven crucial against that alpha goblinthough it did cost her a perfectly good sword in the process. Next time, she resolved, Phantom Step might need a boost. No telling what other threats theyd face on the road ahead. Their other spoils included 253 copper coins each. Abby grinned when she found a pair of leather boots and gloves that fit her agile fighting style, while Asil received sturdy leather gauntlets. But the real treasure came from the alpha goblins drop: Abbys eyes shone as she examined two newly acquired daggers:
Daggers of Vespa +2 to damage Return to storage if lost 34% chance of a critical strike when using Backstab
These are perfect, Abby whispered, testing a twirl with one blade. Like they were made for me. Asil let out a low whistle while flipping through details of her own gear:
Blade Dancers Circlet +3 to armor +1 to Stamina Self-Repair: Can fix itself over time if placed into storage.
A simple yet elegant gold band, the circlet offered practical benefits. Asil promptly slipped it on, smoothing back her hair. Abby regarded her with a warm smile. Looks good. Functional and kinda regal. After an hour of respite, Asil roused the group. Though still sore and not fully recovered, theyd lingered as long as they could afford. Darkness loomed, and Fort Warren remained hours away. With Cressa hefting her mace, Gideon stifling a yawn, and Eamon tucking his notes away, they set off once more. As they trudged on, the unspoken bond forged in that brutal fight stayed with them. The weight of a shared victory lent them the courage to face the looming unknown. Abby offered Asil a half-smile, tapping her newly acquired daggers against her thigh as if saying, Weve got this. When they finally vanished deeper into the forest trail, the creeks calm ripples were the only sign left of their passing. Blood and goblin corpses were behind them, Fort Warren ahead, and they pressed forward with unityready or notto confront whatever lay in waiting in the hushed darkness of Aerothanes night. The remainder of the trek to the North Road passed without incident, the group pressing on beneath the faint glow of a waning moon. Underfoot, the road showed its agecracked cobblestones and patches of encroaching weeds told of decades left untended. As they rounded a final bend, Fort Warrens tallest tower emerged as a dark silhouette against the star-flecked sky. At once, the sight reinvigorated them. Weariness gave way to anticipation, and they quickened their pace, drawn by the promise of shelter and answers. But upon reaching what seemed to be a forgotten guard post, Asil raised a hand in a swift command to halt. The rotted structure leaned precariously, half its roof gone, vines weaving through shattered beams. Should we camp here and approach at sunrise? Abby asked, voice hushed. Going up to the fort in the dark feels risky. Asil didnt respond right away. She scanned the overgrown path ahead, where the North Road appeared to end at the abandoned post, then vanished into tangled undergrowth. In the distance, Fort Warren loomed, gates dark and silent, like some brooding sentinel from ages past. I have a strange feeling, Asil muttered eventually, drawing a backup swordthe ornate one Loren had gifted her. Shed dreaded using it in combat, especially after seeing how her enhanced Blade Dancer skills could destroy ordinary weapons. But an eerie sense around Fort Warren put her on edge. No more mishaps like the alpha goblin, she resolved. I wont be caught off-guard. Cressa and Frederick, with me, Asil ordered quietly. Gideon, Eamonstay here with Abby. Keep a sharp eye on the perimeter. Abby and Eamon slipped off the road, crouching behind a thick cluster of brambles. True to form, Gideon glided into the nearby woods, presumably finding a vantage point up in a tree. Abby watched Asil, Cressa, and Frederick pick their way down the overgrown trail, anxiety gnawing at her. I was just a high school freshman back home, she mused in disbelief. Now were dividing into squads like a real army? Still, the plan made sense. Asils instincts tended to be spot-on, and after their encounter with the alpha goblin, Abby trusted her more than ever. Ahead, Asil led Cressa and Frederick with deliberate stealth. The moon had dipped low behind a line of crooked trees, plunging the world into near-total darkness. Only the faint starlight guided them, along with their own trained senses. Asil communicated via quick hand signalsa silent language theyd developed during the training at Harjil. Finally, they crested a small rise and confronted Fort Warrens main gate. Once imposing, it now stood cloaked in shadows. Thick iron bars, half-choked by creeping ivy, had fused with layers of rust. The brush had grown chest-high at the base of the gate, as though nature sought to reclaim this fortress for itself. Asils pulse quickened. No lights flickered from inside. No guards called a challenge. A hush enveloped the place, too deep to be natural. This is wrong, she thought, irritated by how little she could see. If only she had a night-vision skill. The silence pressed in on her, urging caution, yet shed come too far to simply turn back. Steeling herself, Asil advanced with the new sword in hand, wincing at the memory of how easily her last blade had disintegrated after Crescent Strike. Ill save that skill for a crisis, she decided, remembering the alpha goblins final moments. Cressa and Frederick flanked her, the former gripping a mace tight, the latter holding a short sword at the ready. Aiming to break the oppressive quiet, Asil tapped her blade against the iron bars. The dull clang reverberated through the still night. She cleared her throat, calling into the darkness. We seek an audience with whoever commands this fort. Nothing. No voice answered. Even the forest seemed to hold its breathno chirping insects or nocturnal birds. After a heavy pause, Asil let out a frustrated sigh. Well have to find our own way in, she muttered. Inspecting the thick vines, she spotted a smaller door set within the main gate, presumably a sally port for single-person entry. Nudging it experimentally, she felt it shift a mere inchblocked by something clinking inside. A rusty chain and lock had seized the door in place, thoroughly secured by time and neglect. Cressa, Asil said, stepping back. Your mace might do the trick on this lock. Cressa nodded, lifting her weapon overhead, ready to smash the chain. Frederick hovered nearby; sword angled defensively in case any hidden foes lurked behind the gate. Just as Cressa tensed to swing, a raspy voice broke through the silence, chilling them all: Dont. Cressa froze mid-strike, eyes going wide. Asil and Frederick spun around, swords raised, scanning the dense shadows. Somewhere beyond the bars, a silhouette shifted, masked by gloom. Asils heartbeat thundered in her ears as she took a cautious step forward. Whos there? she demanded, voice steady but laced with wary tension. The shape leaned closer, breath hissing through the bars. Do not enter, the figure whispered, each word scraping like a rusted hinge. Asil squared her shoulders, swallowing her fear. Why? she countered. Weve traveled far to see this fort Only death waits within, the figure murmured, voice hollow. The oppressive quiet returned, heavier than before. Cressa lowered her mace fractionally, exchanging a troubled look with Asil. Fredericks knuckles whitened around his sword hilt. At that moment, a single question loomed in Asils mind: How much truth lay behind the strangers wordsand how deep ran the peril hidden beyond these walls? Chapter 17: Did I pick a decent branch? The old man stood at the edge of the road, silently contemplating Jack. Jack sat cross-legged in a deep meditationapparently waiting for Gondel and Petros at their agreed-upon rendezvous. Nearby, two wolves dozed just beyond the tree line, the moonlit forest framing the peaceful scene. A faint smile touched the old mans lips as he recognized mage meditation. So hes learning, the observer mused. Faster than most. This was a progression only an adept mage typically discovered after rigorous training. He sensed movement to his left. As expected, the girl appeared, stepping out of the darkness to stand beside him. Though she looked no older than nine, her gaze was anything but childlike. Her eyes narrowed as they focused on Jacks seemingly slumbering form. Your champion is tinkering with forces hell never understand, she muttered, her voice edged with disdain. The old man schooled his expression back to stoic neutrality. Hes not my champion, he murmured softly. But the slight tilt of his mouth revealed, just for a moment, his amusement at her frustration. Together, they watched in silence as the forest remained stillJack immersed in his meditation, the wolves untroubled in their sleep. Shrouded by nights veil, this pair could intrude upon many secrets in the realm, yet they were barred from Jacks innermost mind. At length, the female wolf rose. She walked to her slumbering brother, nudged him briefly, then slipped away into the trees, heading northeast. What was that? the child demanded, confusion flickering across her features. The old man said nothing. Her annoyance deepened, but she withheld further questions. The hush of the forest continued, punctuated only by the faint hum of Jacks mana stirring. Then both onlookers felt ita tug at the Source. The old mans brow furrowed momentarily, and the girls face twisted in undisguised anger. Hes tapping more deeply than expected, she must have realized. She took a single step forward, fury trembling in her small frame. Every fiber of her being seemed ready to lash out at the meditating mage. The old man spoke softly, echoing her own words from a previous encounter: We cannot interfere. She shot him a look that could melt steel, her mouth opening as if to retortbut closed again when Jacks eyes snapped open. Instantaneously, the pair vanished into the shadows.
Like apparitions of smoke, they reappeared at a tree line on the outskirts of Pendle, observing Jack as he emerged from Henrys forge with a set of woodworking tools. He made his way to a makeshift bench out back, carefully laying out a gnarled oak branch with almost reverent care. The old man and the girl stood some distance away, unseen, following Jacks every move as he started planning and carving. By all appearances, it was simple staff-makinga mortals attempt at weaponry. Yet both watchers sensed the growing flow of mana each time Jacks chisel cut into the wood. Hes forging his primary armament, the old man murmured, nodding thoughtfully. In line with the natural progression, yes, but not so soon The child clamped her lips shut, brow furrowed. Even so, her eyes betrayed raging disbelief. Hes leveling up at an unprecedented pace, she thought, though she spoke not a word aloud. Something is off about that shalor he carries that journal. They kept watch as Jack meticulously carved runes into the staffs surface. Each symbol pulsed faintly, synergy weaving magic into the grain. The childs initial mask of mild curiosity fell away, replaced by unmasked horror at how potent the staff was becoming. Anger blossomed in her face, warping her features into something terrible. You did something, she hissed at the old man, struggling to keep her voice low. A swirl of menacing power radiated from her petite frame, eyes flashing with a fury that belied her childlike form. The old man merely shook his head, voice calm. I cannot. We cannot. You know the pact. He raised a brow at her trembling fists but made no move to restrain her beyond a gentle hand on her shoulder. This is his doingand ironically, its very like him, from his previous life. Exploiting cracks and loopholes. For a heartbeat, the child looked poised to break that pact, to lash out at Jack then and there. She could, if only she were willing to bear the consequences. She balled her fists, the monstrous hatred in her eyes roiling closer to the surface. But any direct intervention risked annihilating her own cause in the process. In the end, she masked her fury with a disconcerting, sweet smile, returning to the image of a harmless nine-year-old. No more words passed her lips; still, her gaze promised a fate worse than death for Jack. The old man appeared equally grim, his own eyes reflecting resignation. If only I could spare him But he held his silence. They lingered long enough to see Jack rise, staff in hand, a slight glow about its newly etched runes. Then they retreated once more into the darknesslocked in their own unspoken conflict, helpless for the moment to stop or guide what was to come. Back at the Boar & Brew, Jack climbed the creaking stairs to his rented room, grateful the days efforts had finally wound down. After paying Trevor for another night, he settled onto the makeshift bed, fatigue warring with excitement coursing through his veins. His mind still buzzed from crafting the staff, which now pulsed with arcane energy like a heartbeat. Opening his journal, he began leafing through the pages to catch the barrage of notifications hed missed while in the zone forging his mage staff:
You have learned Rune: Shaz (Experience gained) You have learned Rune: Shyra (Experience gained) You have learned Rune: Murel (Experience gained) You have learned Rune: Garen (Experience gained) You have learned Rune: Zhalin (Experience gained) You have learned Rune: Shihar (Experience gained) Congratulations! You have leveled up! You have reached Level 6. You have one new skill point. You have five unspent skill points. You have learned Rune: Zofir (Experience gained) You have learned Rune: Tyraal (Experience gained) You have learned Rune: Naath (Experience gained) You have learned Rune: Zural (Experience gained) You have learned Rune: Serah (Experience gained) You have created Mage Staff "Zuralthuren" (Experience gained) "Zuralthuren" has bound to you. Congratulations! You have leveled up! You have reached Level 7. You have one new skill point. You have six unspent skill points.
Jack nearly dropped the journal in shock. Two entire levels, he breathed, scanning his status in disbelief. He noticed a tingle of energy humming through his limbsa tangible sign of growth. Without hesitation, he allocated his six skill points: two each to Chain Lightning and Fire Rain, and two more to Mana Regen. The spells now stood at Level 3, presumably stronger and more efficient, though the specifics werent immediately clear. Jack rummaged through his pouch, remembering a skill book hed looted from the goblin fight. Its only been a few days since entering this game, he marveled, but it feels like ages. Carefully, he traced the ornate clasp before opening the worn tome. The moment it lay open, white light spilled across his lap, and the book disintegrated into sparks that soaked into his skin:
You have learned the spell: Fire Armour (Level 1) - Conjure a cloak of fire that shields from damage and harms melee attackers. - Cost: Medium mana, plus low mana upkeep per strike. - Duration: 20 seconds - Cooldown: 60 seconds
A grin tugged at Jacks mouth. Another tool for the arsenalperfect. He stored his journal, gently resting Zuralthuren against the bed. Though the night was late, his adrenaline still surged; he doubted sleep would come easily. Maybe some meditation, he thought. Calm my mind maybe even practice that new mana control. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He adopted a cross-legged stance on the bed, shutting out the low murmur from the tavern below. Focusing on his breathing, he slipped into a relaxed rhythm. In through the nose, out through the mouth, until the taverns faint clinks and distant voices fell away. Slowly, Jack extended his awareness. Where once he could barely sense anything beyond himself, now he detected subtle pulses of life in the innsomeone dozing in the next room, a dog rummaging out back. He delved further, searching for Saul, the male wolf hed befriended. A moment later, he felt a distant warmth respond. Saul was just outside Pendle, lurking in the treeline, half-awake. Jack projected a gentle reassurance toward the wolf: Youre a good boy, you know that? I havent forgotten our deal. Steak in the morning. Sauls contented acceptance rippled backan almost emotional wag of the tailthen faded as the wolf dozed off. A corner of Jacks mouth quirked in a smile. I have a wolf ally. How crazy is that? His thoughts drifted inward. Last time he meditated this way, hed stepped into a viscous darkness, culminating in the discovery of his mana tree. Now, that gloom felt less oppressivelike wading through waist-deep water instead of an endless bog. Heh, guess leveling up helps everything, he mused. A faint spark shimmered through his consciousness, heralding the reappearance of that enormous blue-lit tree anchoring his magic. Drawing closer, he realized the tree seemed larger now, its branches more Experience, leaves shimmering with renewed potential. Every new level or skill point must be feeding it, he thought, pressing a hand gently against the glowing bark. The trunks subtle hum echoed with unstoppable growth, each root branching deeper into the unseen reservoir of Aerothanes severed Source. This time, Jack was determined to avoid the peril of overwhelming knowledge. He kept his grip light, letting only a trickle of power flow between him and the tree. Within that comforting radiance, he exhaled slowly, feeling both content and curious. Thats when it happened: a whisper, sliding through the dreamscape like black silk. Jack. Startled, he jerked away from the trunk. The voice sounded close, ominously intimate in his mental realm. A large, shadowy face loomed against the brightness, details obscured but eyes glinting with unreadable intent. Jack take your place by my side. A surge of dread shot through him. The entitys words carried an unearthly resonance, swirling with promises of something immenseand likely dangerous. Panic flared, and he yanked himself from the meditative trance as if pulling out of a free fall. With a strangled gasp, Jacks eyes flew open. He found himself back in the inn, his breathing ragged, heart pounding. The staff still rested against the bed, inert but oddly comforting. A cold sweat dotted his brow. What was that? he thought, adrenaline spiking through his veins. The presence felt real, not some random dream. Glancing around, he confirmed he was alone, the small room lit only by a single lamp burning low on the table. Outside, the faint nighttime hush of Pendle carried on, ignorant of his sudden terror. Slowly, he forced calm. No immediate danger, he tried to reassure himself. Yet the memory of that shadowy face lingered as if pressing him to unravel a grim secret. Brushing a trembling hand through his hair, Jack wondered if the Source hed sensed was more than a neutral well of energyand if it might be calling him for reasons he wasnt prepared to face.
Petros jolted awake, ink-stained pages sticking to his cheek. He blinked blearily, realizing he must have dozed off over a chapter detailing subtle differences between sigil-based and weave-based magic. A faint light flickered from the oil lamp on the table, revealing Gondel standing in the doorway with a steaming pot of tea. A dozen ancient tomes lay spread out around Petros, each brimming with knowledge. Hed discovered they werent specifically about healing or support spellsmuch to his disappointment. Still, certain references in Chronicles of the Sevenfold Seal and Principles of High Arcana offered clues that might help him evolve his Spirit Warden class. Whats that you got there? Gondel rumbled, setting a mug of tea down with a firm thud. His gaze landed on a book Petros triedunsuccessfullyto conceal: Shadow Tongue. Petros swallowed hard, guilt twisting in his stomach. IIm sorry, he stammered. I was looking for more advanced references, and I found this. I wasnt sure if it was forbidden or not Gondel huffed a half-laugh as he lifted the slim volume. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, I suppose, he said. A faint scowl creased his brow, but he set the book aside on the tables edge rather than snatching it away. You realize theres a reason I started you on the basics, yes? Too much knowledge too soon can be dangerous. Petros nodded, cheeks flushing. I know. Its just He gestured to the pages of scrawled notes hed taken. Ive nearly finished these twoChronicles and Principlesand I wanted to cross-reference certain runic theories. He trailed off, fiddling with his quill. Despite the reprimand, excitement glimmered in his eyes. Gondels annoyance wavered as he picked up a stack of Petross notes, thumbing through them. He recognized diagrams of seal arrays, references to weave-lattice expansions from Principles of High Arcana, and a network of scribbled, arrow-tied concepts bridging the two. Astonishment flickered across his face, tempered by caution. I take it youve read up on the Principle of Veralane? Gondel asked, arching a brow. That question was childs play for an apprentice wizardbasic first-year stuff. Petros snorted softly. If you mean the principle stating that a stable runic formation requires direct synergy with the Source to prevent feedback collapseyes, I read it. But Veralanes approach was incomplete. She accounted for a pre-cutoff environment where the raw magical flow was consistent. In a severed land like ours, mana drift changes the entire dynamic. You have to incorporate a failsafe weave, or youll risk a meltdown. Veralane hinted at that in her second edition, but she didnt finalize the concept. The old wizard blinked, struggling not to reveal his surprise. He let out a low chuckle. So you do more than memorize. Youve found the flaw. Took me decades to see that. You His voice trailed off, wary of praising the boy too openly. Very good, he said, nodding once. He folded the notes and laid them gently on the desk. We should probably get back to your friend, Jack, he added, trying to sound casual, though Petros caught a hint of affection in his tone. No doubt hes left that forest patch by nowmaybe gone back to the village. A grin tugged at Gondels lips. Im curious what pitiful branch he picked up off the forest floor, thinking itd make a decent staff. Petross heart leapt. Theyd spent so many hours holed up reading he was itching to see Jack againyet a twinge of sadness swirled at leaving his studies. Gondel, noticing the shift in the boys expression, chuckled softly. Take the books, then. Im not letting you off easy with your lessons. He tidied up the trunk, leaving the ones Petros had already studied in a separate pile. But be warned, knowledge can be a heavier burden than you think. Petross eyes widened at the unexpected gift. Thank you, sir, he breathed, carefully stacking the tomes and notes. Without meeting Gondels eye, he slipped two extra books onto the pileincluding Shadow Tongue hoping the wizard wouldnt notice. But Gondel did notice a faint smirk ghosting his lips, though he pretended otherwise. Better he learn from the source than from half-baked rumor. The wizard said nothing, and Petros finished packing up, stowing the volumes in his pouch. Come, Gondel said, slinging a small satchel of his own across his shoulder. Lets see if we can find your friend and that crappy staff hes undoubtedly cobbled together. Well see if a real wizards input can salvage it, hmm? Petros smiled, relief and anticipation flooding his chest. He couldnt wait to show Jack what hed learnedand to continue unraveling the deeper secrets behind healing spells and advanced support magic. Yet, in the back of his mind, a thrill of caution lingered. If forging new spells was this easy to him, what else lay hidden in the pages hed just borrowed? As they stepped outside, a soft dawn lightened the eastern sky. Gondel paused, scanning the horizon thoughtfully before leading Petros down the path. Their footsteps echoed on the worn stones, each one carrying them closer to a reunion with Jackand to the next chapter of mysteries swirling around the severed Source, advanced sigil theories, and the secret knowledge resting inside Petross pouch.
Jack awoke feeling astonishingly refreshed. Despite the late-night meditationand the unnerving whisperhe had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. Early morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of his rented room at the Boar & Brew, rousing him gently. Stretching off the lingering stiffness, he recalled one pressing promise: feeding Saul. After settling his tab with Trevor for another nights stay, Jack ventured out to Pendles local butcher. He purchased a fat, juicy steakfar larger than anything hed typically buy for himselfand headed to the eastern treeline, tracking Saul through the bond they shared. He found the wolf dozing beneath a wide oak. At Jacks approach, Saul bounded forward in a blur of thick fur and excited energy, nearly toppling Jack. Whoa! Jack laughed, scratching the wolf behind the ears. He pulled out the steak, brandishing it with a flourish. Here you go, buddy. Eyes bright, Saul bounded away a few steps, spinning in anticipation. Jack tossed the steak high, and the wolf leaped, snatching it in midair with uncanny grace. One gulp, and it was gone. Good boy, Jack murmured, grinning as Saul flopped over, exposing his belly for a well-deserved rub. He knelt to oblige, happiness flooding him at the sheer surreal nature of having a wolf companion. Not long after, Jacks expanded senses nudged him. Petros is near. Gathering his cloak, he whistled for Saul to stay out of sight in the tree line. The big wolf padded a few yards away, keeping watchful eyes on Jack as he strolled back toward Pendles main road. Near Henrys forge, he spotted Petros trotting alongside Gondel, both heading in his direction. Petros broke into a run the moment he saw Jack, practically barreling into him with a hug. You wont believe it! We helped a sick family, and I healed themI even resurrected a little girl! Then we w-we Whoa, slow down, kid. Jack chuckled, ruffling Petross hair. Weve got plenty to catch up on. He turned to Gondel, offering a nod. Morning, Wizard. Gondel returned the nod, though his keen eyes flicked around Jack appraisingly. Something about the younger manperhaps a new assurance in his bearingcaught Gondels attention. Then he noticed the stick in Jacks hand. Lets see that Gondel said, gesturing at the humble piece of wood. Jack raised a brow, then held up the stick. Oh, this? Isnt it great? he teased. Behind him, Petros let out a pained groan, facepalming. Gondel stifled a laugh, feigning seriousness. Splendid, he deadpanned. For kindling, at least. He folded his arms. That would make a pretty lousy staff. Jack flashed a mischievous grin. Funny you should say that. He tossed the stick high over his shoulder. A blur of fur erupted from the treesa massive wolf leaping up to snatch the stick midair. The beasts sheer size and sudden appearance made Petros stagger back, hands flaring with blue light, ready to summon a guardian. Gondel instinctively brandished his staff and half-drew a short sword hidden in his robes. Easy, guys! Jack chuckled, placing a calming hand on Petross arm. Saul trotted up, wagging his tail, then dropped the stick at Jacks feet. The wolf eyed Petros curiously and let out a low, barely audible growl at Gondel. Petros, recovering from shock, let out a gasp. Oh my gods. You have a wolf? The wide-eyed teen then all but dove at Saul, rubbing the wolfs head. Saul accepted the affection, apparently deciding Petros was a friend. Gondel, though, lowered his staff only reluctantly, eyes narrowed. So youve been busy, I see, the old wizard mused, still eyeing the beast warily. Care to fill me in? Jack scratched his chin. Heh, theres a story or two there. But Ive got something else to show you. He motioned toward Henrys forge across the street. Henry offered his workspace out back if we need privacy. Once behind the forge, Gondel propped his staff against the wall while Petros took a seat on a wooden bench. Saul hovered near the treeline, occasionally peeking around as though expecting more steak. Jack remained standing, a small smile tugging at his lips. Right, then, Jack said, raising his right hand. Concentrating briefly, he summoned an image of his staff from his pouchbut instead of rummaging physically, he called it into his grip via pure willa shimmering outline formed around his fist, resolving into a magnificent staff whose carved runes glowed faintly. Petros watched with gaping awe. Gondels reaction was more dramatic: his face fell from mild curiosity to utter horror the moment he recognized the runes. What have you done? Gondel snapped, stumbling forward to snatch the staff. But a spark of static repelled his fingers. The old wizard jerked his hand away with a hiss, anger flickering in his gaze. This is advanced, borderline forbidden magic, boy, he barked. Where did you learn these incantations? Jacks mischievous grin lingered though a flash of genuine hurt appeared in his eyes. Learned it from you! he said with mock indignation. At Gondels bewildered expression, Jack sighed. Okay, well, from my wife, Asil, who studied your magical theories in her earlier gaming days, specifically your approach to runic synergy. Gondel staggered a half-step back, pale with shock. He reached for his own staff as though expecting a battle. Petros, wide-eyed, swung his gaze between them, swallowing an urge to conjure a healing spell if necessary. Saul let out a soft growl, stepping forward protectively, but Jack mentally signaled the wolf to remain calm. After a tense beat, Gondel lowered himself onto the bench, shoulders sagging in disbelief. You I Gondel stammered, at a loss for words. Ive never known a mortal to craft something so potent without strict guidance. You truly gleaned these runes from secondhand notes? Silence hung heavy until Jack let out a breath. Gondel, no offense, but Ive dabbled in exploits all my life, he muttered with a crooked smile. Lets just say my wifes a thorough researcher. He paused. You gave me the tools. Im just assembling them in ways you didnt expect. In the hush that followed, Petros burst into giggles, the tension too much for his nerves. Jack joined with a hearty laugh, though Saul rumbled quietly, not entirely amused by Gondels outburst. The old wizard watched them all; deep worry etched into the lines of his face. If it truly harnesses runes like these, Gondel murmured at last, then you stand on a precipice one that might tear you apart if you misuse that staff. He gestured at Zuralthuren warily. Jack merely smirked, swishing the staffs carved tip through the air. So, he drawled, did I pick a decent branch for a staff or what? Petros choked on another laugh while Gondel stared hard at the runic weapon, torn between admiration and dread. One thing was certain: Jacks path had strayed well beyond the normal leveling curve, opening doors neither henor Gondelentirely understood. Chapter 18: Shadow Realm The rusted gate of Fort Warren stood before Asil, vines twisting around iron bars corroded by decades of neglect. She could almost feel the weight of dormant magic hanging in the air, pressing against her senses like an invisible hand. Her sword dangled at her side, the hilt warm against her palm as she fought a surge of unease. If we get inside, she thought, what horrors will we face? She turned away briefly, her boots crunching over gravel and overgrown weeds. Yet something in her gut told her not to leave. Then the figures voice cut through the hush: Wait. A tremor ran down Asils spine. Glancing back, she narrowed her eyes at the silhouette behind the vine-encrusted bars. Its presenceboth unearthly and oddly compellingmade her heart pound. Even the night itself seemed to wait with bated breath. Your scent the figure rasped, each word sounding as though dragged from a well of shadows. Its familiar. Come closer, child. Let me see you. Every instinct screamed danger, but Asil found herself drawn toward the gate, transfixed. Cressa stepped forward, resting a protective hand on Asils shoulder; Asil gently patted it, signaling shed be careful. She took a small step closerclose enough for the figure to see her under the star light but still out of easy reach. The figure moved, slow and deliberately, revealing just enough to show it was human-like yet overshadowed by something far more powerful. Who are you? it asked a soft hiss that set Asils nerves on edge. Asil, she answered, trying to keep her voice steady despite the knot of fear coiled in her chest. At that, the figure flinched, its voice turning harsh: Outworlder! The sudden outcry made Cressa and Frederick advance, weapons raised. Asil stopped them with a swift hand signal. The figures fierce outburst unnerved her, but a flicker of pure emotion behind that cry intrigued her. Anger? Recognition? Something else? After a tense moment, the figure stepped closer to the gate, pressing an arm through the bars. Vines rustled and fell away, revealing a slender, well-manicured handnails painted midnight black. The stark contrast between this elegant limb and the decaying fort was jarring. Asil hesitated, fighting down a surge of panic when the womans hand brushed against her cheek. The contact was oddly gentle, a faint whisper of power that made Asils pulse stutter. I knew you, the figure murmured, the words hovering between statement and question. Asil, she repeated as though testing the names taste. Something inside Asil twisted with a mix of dread and curiosity. This being felt impossibly ancientlike a root of the severed Source itself. She swallowed, head pounding. Yes, she breathed, uncertain how to respond. Are you with any others? The tone was almost tender, sending a prickling sensation down Asils neck. Asil instantly realized the question wasnt about her companionsCressa, Frederick, Gideon, or Eamon. This stranger asked about others like Asil, other outworlders. She opened her mouth to deny itAbby deserved protection. Yet, inexplicably, the truth slipped out: Yes Abby. The woman recoiled at the name, yanking her hand back as if scorched by raw flame. Yet she didnt retreat entirely into the darkness. Instead, she repeated Abby in a voice trembling withwas it reverence or remorse? Asil felt an aching pressure in her chest. She wanted to demand answerswho was this woman? What was Fort Warren harboring? But before she could form coherent words, the figures hand came forward again, this time pressing against Asils chest. The touch was no longer gentle but assessing as if measuring Asils soul. Youre not ready, the woman murmured, her voice cold. Return when you are. Then, with languid grace, she withdrew her hand and stepped back. Asil broke from her stupor, leaning against the gate. What is this place? she demanded, anxiety sharpening her tone. The figure paused, a half-turn of her silhouette the only indication she was still there. Her final whisper carried on the still air like a distant echo: Shadow Realm And just like that, she vanished into the pitch-black confines of the fort, leaving Asil reeling. Cressa and Frederick closed in; their faces mirror images of shock. None of them spoke. The hush around Fort Warren seemed more profound than before, as though the entire forest held its breath to avoid drawing the womans attention again. Heart pounding, Asil took a shaky step back from the bars. Whatever lurking power had spoken to her was beyond normal magic or demon threat. It radiated a timeless, alien auraone that recognized Asils outworlder nature and, more disturbingly, acknowledged Abby. Cressa reached out to steady Asil. We should we go after her? she asked, voice hushed. Asil shook her head, releasing a breath she didnt realize shed been holding. Wed stand no chance if something that ancient wanted us gone, she muttered. Lets get back. Well decide what to do come daylight. Wordlessly, Frederick nodded. Together, they turned away from the gate, tension crawling along their spines. The figures voiceShadow Realmcontinued to echo in Asils mind. She led the group back along the overgrown path, each footstep feeling strangely hollow in the silent night. Dawn would bring new decisions, but for now, the name lingered in her thoughts like a dark omen: Shadow Realm The team regrouped by the abandoned guard tower, their faces drawn and pale in the aftermath of that unsettling encounter at Fort Warrens gate. A thin veil of clouds drifted across the moon, deepening the nights already somber air. Instinctively, they moved into a small clearing nearby, setting up a makeshift camp in silence. They lit a small fire, a feeble beacon in the oppressive darkness. Its flickering glow did little to ease the tension. Asil sat closest to the flames, her sword resting across her knees. Abby joined her, settling so their shoulders touched. Even that slight contact felt comforting after the confrontation with the mysterious woman. What happened back there? Abby asked, voice hushed. Who was that person? Asil let out a slow breath, her eyes fixed on the dancing embers. Im not sure, she admitted. But she knew thingsabout us and the Shadow Realm. Abbys brow furrowed. Shadow Realm? Whats that supposed to mean? Keeping her eyes on the flames, Asil explained. In SR3the gamethere was a Shadow Realm you entered at Level 10. It acted like a separate reality layered over the normal world. Harder enemies, rarer lootlike advanced dungeons. Abby blinked. So an entire dimension? Exactly, Asil said, nodding. And it wasnt just a game mechanic, either. The lore claimed it was a real place of concentrated magic and darkness. That figure at the gateshe insisted were not ready to face it. Her tone turned grim. And I believe her. She also seemed to imply Fort Warren is some sort of entry point. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Abby ran a hand through her hair. You think she meant we have to, what, reach Level 10 in this world? So its basically locked behind a threshold, like the game? Thats my best guess, Asil answered, shooting her a tired half-smile. We might need more levels, more power. No sense diving into something that in SR3 was infamous for slaughtering under-leveled players. Abby sighed, rolling a stiff shoulder from the days earlier battles. Fantasticjust what we need, she muttered darkly. Another looming threat. A faint glimmer of amusement crossed Asils face. Well manage, she said firmly. Well train, keep leveling up. But Fort Warren we cant ignore it for now. Something about that place is important, and its tied to the Shadow Realm. A mixture of nervous excitement brightened her expression, tempered by the knowledge that the real-life version of SR3s most dangerous domain might be far worse than any game scenario. They lapsed into a pensive silence, the crackling fire the only sound in the starless gloom. Eventually, Abby spoke again, voice subdued. That woman the way she said my name. You think she knew me? Or recognized me? A fleeting shiver traced Asils spine. I dont know, she admitted, gaze flicking to the perimeter of their small campsite. But she definitely has some connection to outworldersus. If she really recognized your name She trailed off, exhaling. We have to tread carefully. As the night wore on, the group divided their watch shifts in near-silence. Despite exhaustion, sleep came only grudgingly, haunted by the memory of that figures cryptic warning. Dawn arrived cloud-shrouded but no less welcome. They packed quickly, each weighed by the previous nights encounter. Asil shouldered her gear, determined to lead them away from Fort Warren for now. Her sword hung at her side, a reminder of the gates occupant whod brushed her cheek as though testing her worth. Well head south, Asil declared, voice calm yet firm. Were not strong enough for that place right now. Once weve leveled up maybe well come back. No one argued. Even Frederick kept uncharacteristically quiet, though he shot occasional glances at the towering fort behind them. The forest was quiettoo quiet. It felt as though the land itself observed them leaving, withholding comment. After roughly an hours travel through overgrown paths, the hush shattered. Grunts, snarls, and the snap of branches drifted through the trees. Asil stiffened, raising a hand. She signaled for her team to spread out and proceed in stealth, each footstep carefully placed on soft ground. Pushing aside a leafy branch, they glimpsed five goblins wrestling with a large wolf. The creatures fur was matted with blood, ropes cutting into its flanks. It thrashed and snapped, desperate to break free. The goblins shouted in guttural tones, brandishing crude clubs and daggers while trying to pin the wolf down. Asil crouched behind a gnarled bush, scanning the clearing. Her silent gestures directed Cressa and Frederick to the flanks, Gideon to find a vantage for archery, and Abby to stay near her. Each understood weapons at the ready. Whats the plan? Abby whispered, daggers glinting softly in the slanted sunlight. Asils lips curved into a determined smile. Swift and quiet, she murmured. We take them out before they can call for help. She paused, glancing at the wolf. And we free that poor beast. The group nodded, tension pulsing as they slid into position. Asil let out a breath, raising a silent count with her fingersthree, two, one
Goblin (Level 5) Goblin (Level 5) Goblin (Level 5) Goblin (Level 5) Goblin (Level 6)
They shared tense glances. Cressa, Frederick, Gideon, and Eamon stood ready at their sides. The five goblinsbusily tormenting a bound wolfwere too absorbed in their rough handling to notice the approaching party. With a final round of silent signals, each member singled out a target: Asil locked eyes on the Level 6 goblin. Abby and Cressa each took on a Level 5. Frederick and Gideon claimed the remaining two. Eamon hung back, prepared to lend healing or support if the situation got messy. The team struck with practiced efficiency. Asil lunged in first, unleashing Whirling Slash, her sword flashing under the dappled daylight. The Level 6 goblin bellowed as the blade tore through its defense in a single fluid sweep, toppling it in a shower of dust and spilled lifeblood. Nearby, Abby weaved between the shadows of thick foliage, her Backstab ability finding a crucial opening. Her goblin let out a strangled cry before crumpling, felled by a critical strike. In parallel, Cressa slammed her mace into the temple of another shrieking foe, bone and brain matter smashing beneath the irons weight. Across the clearing, Gideon fired a volley of arrows, each shot precise. One goblin clutched at an arrow buried in its throat, collapsing with a gurgle, while the second took an arrow to the heart, never finishing its startled grunt. Frederick, though relatively new to large-scale combat, maintained calm focus, delivering quick, clean sword slashes to help incapacitate the wounded adversaries Gideons shots had destabilized. When the last goblin thudded to the ground, the forest fell silent once againsave for the heavy breathing of the victorious party. Abbys journal pulsed with a triumphant hum, and she grinned upon reading her new status: Level 4. The others also scanned their journals, nodding as they absorbed the fresh experience gains. No one had time to celebrate. A large, bloodied wolf, still tied to a tree, snarled and snapped at anyone who inched near. Its fur clumped with dried gore, eyes alight with fear and defiance. Forming a loose semi-circle around the beast, the group lowered their weapons but stayed alert. Asil carefully stepped forward, raising one hand in a calming gesture. Back off, she instructed gently, glancing over her shoulder at the others. Let me handle this. Strangely, she felt no dreadonly a quiet determination to help the trapped creature. Just the night before, shed confronted a mysterious figure at Fort Warren, heart pounding with uncertainty. Now, a peaceful clarity guided her steps. Easy now Asil murmured, inching closer. Were not here to hurt you. The wolf hissed and lunged, canines glinting, but Asil pulled back deftly, refusing to retreat. Youre safe, she repeated, voice calm. This time, the wolf merely bared its teeth in warning before sniffing her outstretched hand. The growling ebbed into a soft whimper. With a gentle motion, Asil knelt, letting the creature press its muzzle to her palm. In seconds, it was licking her arms, tail thumping weakly on the ground. Asil exhaled a small laugh. Good girl, she said, finding the ropes and trying to loosen them. They were knotted tight. Abbydagger already in handcrept behind the wolf, carefully slicing the ropes away. Though the beast tensed at first, it relaxed once it realized Abby posed no threat. Freed at last, the wolf sprang upright, dancing around the clearing with renewed energy. It snarled at each fallen goblin as if double-checking they were truly dead, then tentatively returned to sniff at the party. Frederick attempted a pat on the wolfs head. She jumped away warily, ears flattening. Shes just frightened, Asil reassured him, though her voice held relief. Shell come around. Eamon moved in next, a small healing kit in hand. The wolf jerked, snarling reflexively near his arm, but Asil intervened firmly: Hes a friend. Its alright. Sensing Asils calm presence, the wolf huffed, relaxing by degrees. She allowed Eamon to smear healing salve on her wounds. Abby helped apply makeshift bandages. Throughout the process, the wolf trembled less, eventually licking Eamons hand in thanks. Freed from her binds and pain, she bounded a few steps away, barking softly as if to test her restored mobility. Abby tossed the wolf some spare meat rations, eliciting a grateful wag and a wet lick on her hand. Then the wolf whined contentedly at Asils feet, letting the swordswoman cradle her head. Good girl, Asil murmured again, feeling a swell of affection for the battered but valiant creature. When they finally resumed their trek, the wolf loped after them. Her tail swished happily each time Asil glanced back. It was a rare burst of joy in an otherwise grim journey. As they broke for camp that evening, the wolf lingered near Asil, curling up at her side as if a part of the party. Abby watched with a half-smile, crossing her arms. Looks like we have a new friend, Abby joked, voice laced with amusement. Asil nodded, stroking the wolfs matted fur. Yes. She paused, a name bubbling up in her mind. Welcome to the team, Lucia. The wolf perked her ears at the sound as though recognizing her new identity. Abby beamed, giving Lucia a scratch behind the ears. The group settled down, letting a small fire crackle at the camps center. For a moment, it felt oddly peaceful, the days perils receding into the hush of night. Lucia dozed at Asils feet, her head occasionally lifting to sniff the air whenever an owl hooted in the trees. The star-laced sky felt friendlier than usual, the presence of their new companion a reminder that hope could flourish even amidst the darkness of goblin battles and the looming shadow of Fort Warren. Asil went to sleep, her thoughts wandering to Jack, wondering what shenanigans he was getting himself into, hoping he was safe. Chapter 19: We’ll get stronger Gondel kept his expression carefully schooled after Jacks shocking demonstration of his newly forged staff. Something akin to worryor perhaps resignationlingered in his eyes. He said little as he guided Jack and Petros back through Pendle, half-listening to their chatter as they shared the mornings events. Theyve accomplished in days what took me decades A flicker of discomfort crossed Gondels face. It wasnt just jealousyhe needed them to be this strong. A deep part of him wondered: At what cost? For now, he shoved the thought aside, letting the two children head off for breakfast at the Boar & Brew while he returned to his campsite. Theyd reconvene later for deeper training, though Gondel still weighed whether pushing them further was wise. Jack and Petros sat at a corner table in the tavern, ordering a hearty morning meal of eggs, bread, and steaming tea. Petros dug in hungrily before launching into everything that had happened since they parted ways: healing a dying child, reversing an incurable disease, and alleviating an older womans arthritis. Jack listened, eyes wide, impressed. So you basically performed a mini-miracle? Thats beyond your typical healing skill. Petros shrugged, flushing modestly. It drained my mana to near zero, but it felt natural. Like a muscle tear that rebuilds stronger afterward. He paused, rummaging in his pouch for a tattered stack of notes. I also read a ton. Gondels trunk had references to the Chronicles of the Sevenfold Seal and Principles of High Arcanasome advanced stuff about runic synergy, Source-based weaves, you name it. Jack nodded eagerly as he gnawed on a slice of bread. And the map? You said you recognized something labeled Shazval? Petros flipped through pages, tapping a crude sketch hed made of an oak tree. Yes. Its apparently Shadow Realm in that old conlang. The trunk on the map is near the place you found your staff branch. Might be an entry point to a dungeon or gateway to the Shadow Realm, if SR3s lore holds true. Jacks eyes gleamed. You think its level-locked, like in the game? In SR3, you needed to be at least Level 10 to do the starter dungeons for the Shadow Realm, or risk certain death. Petros shivered at that prospect. Probably. SRO''s version might be even harsher. Gondel might confirm eventually, but thats what I suspect. The two then reminiscedhow, in SR3, theyd spent endless nights unlocking hidden quests and reading online guides, enthralled by the games secrets. Now, the beta test seemed to have transported them into a deadly version of that same beloved universe. When Jack mentions the wolveshow he befriends Saul and sends the sister wolf to find AsilPetross jaw drops in a mixture of envy and relief. A pair of wolves? Thats insane. But I guess we do need all the help we can get especially if we want to find the others we came in with, he added thoughtfully. Exactly, Jack agreed. These are the kind of exploits I used to look for in the game: any advantage, even if its not quite by the design. He leaned in. But theres something else. You know how Mage Meditation was a skill or function in SR3, right? Some players used it to refine mana usage after hitting certain skill thresholds. Right, Petros replied, remembering the tangential references hed seen on the forums. But I was always a warrior class. I never had the patience for sitting around chanting spells. He smirked. Jack shrugged. Me neitheruntil now. But given how real and lethal everything is, fine-tuning our mana control seems smart. Especially you, since your healing is borderline OP. If you can refine that, youll be unstoppable. Petros nodded slowly, appetite for the days planning returning. He downed the last of his tea. So, you want us to practice meditation together? A slight grin crept across Jacks face. I know it sounds cornylike some new age workshop. But it seems that what worked in the game, works here. Pulling out his journal to show his progress, Meditation bought me some levels and a ton of insight in this new game. Lets try it before we go see Gondel again, I want you to catch up so we can hit the shadow realms. They paid their tab, stepping outside into the cool midmorning air. Jack guided Petros to a more secluded nook behind the tavern near a patch of tall grass and a leaning oak trunk. No sign of Saul or any watchers, just a peaceful corner suitable for quiet focus. Alright. Jack exhaled, half-laughing at himself. Time for your meditation journey, as I so dramatically put it. Lets start simple. Petros settled cross-legged on the grass, awkward at first, but the memory of channeling big healing spells helped him center. Jack stood guard briefly, scanning around as if to confirm no one would interrupt them. Then he sank down opposite Petros. Close your eyes, Jack instructed, voice gentler than usual. Focus on your breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth let the outside world fade. Petros obeyed, inhaling slowly. He felt the morning suns warmth on his cheeks and heard the faint bustle of Pendles residents from afar. One by one, those sounds receded as he concentrated on the cadence of each breath. Jack closed his own eyes, remembering how his own mana tree had appeared in his mental plane. He quietly wondered what Petross internal domain might look like. With a final glance at the calm sky, Jack let the hush envelop him. And so they began, two players adopting a skill once relegated to an RPGs menu option. If the games logic held true, this session would unlock new avenues of mana control for Petros. Unbeknownst to them, forces in the forestand far beyondcontinued to watch, unseen and patient, as Jack and Petros took these first meditative steps into a dangerous and mysterious realm of magic. Jack and Petros sat across from each other on the floor, eyes closed, both breathing in slow, measured rhythm. A sense of quiet anticipation filled the spacethe inns modest room, where morning light filtered weakly through thin curtains. Now, Jack said softly, as though guiding a meditation class, reach out with your mind. Feel your surroundings. Petros inhaled, trying to distinguish whether Jacks voice reached him via actual sound or some telepathic thread. A curiously calm sensation stole over him, making the boy more aware of the room than hed ever been. He didnt see the space physically, but rather perceived it: the orientation of two bedrolls, the exact position of the shuttered window, even the slow crawl of a spider weaving a life in one high corner. A bubbling excitement rose in Petross chest, nearly shattering his focusuntil he sensed Jacks presence reining him in, a wordless reminder to maintain composure. Keep that focus, Jack continued, his voice like a comforting echo in Petross mind. Now, gently expand your senses beyond just the room. At first, Petros tried pushing outward, forcibly probing the walls. But the more he forced it, the more his perception shrank. Then he felt a ripple of serenity from Jacka nudge to let go of his usual study-based approach. Petros imagined a breeze carrying his awareness outward, drifting past the rooms boundaries. Freed from overthinking, he found his perceptive range blossoming. Suddenly, Petross awareness slid beyond the inn room, ghosting through the floor below like a gentle wind. He felt the lively hum of morning patrons finishing breakfast, recognized two regulars hunched over a board game akin to chess, and spotted Raven moving between tables. Embarrassed, his heart skippedwatching her so intimately felt invasive. Petros sensed Jacks amused reaction, almost like a silent chuckle at his teenage fluster. Flushing, Petros shifted focus away from the tavern, letting the breeze pull him outside into Pendles village square. Though not a massive city, Pendle remained a crucial crossroads for north or south travelers, with a lesser road branching west toward Fort Harjil and the ominous Dark Woods. Petros picked up the subdued bustle of merchants loading carts, stray conversations about trades, and the faint bray of a donkey. He was amazed at the clarity and at how far his psychic view stretched before dimming at the edges. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Jack allowed him to linger, letting Petros sense his personal limit. Petros marveled at how much he could glean from this gentle approach, recalling Mage Meditation from SR3. Unbelievable, he thought. Im actually doing it Soon, Jacks silent prompting nudged him. Now rein that sense in, Jack instructed, voice subdued but resolute. Similar to how you let it expand. Pull it all back and focus it inside yourself. Petross mind balked. He was used to controlling every step logically, not drifting on intuition. Summoning the breeze metaphor again, he pictured a slow vortex reversing direction, pulling the windand his consciousnessback. The shift initially felt clumsy, as though swirling chaotic energies threatened to snap him out of a trance. Twice, he nearly lost concentration, but each time, he recalled the calm presence hed sensed from Jack. If he can do this, so can I. Gradually, the outside world melted away, replaced by a deep darkness. Petros gasped, a stab of panic tightening his chest at the notion that he couldnt breathe in this void. Then he remembered: My real body is breathing just fine Steadying himself, he conjured an image of his limbs. Sure enough, a hazy outline of arms and legs came into being, letting him move in the emptiness. The darkness pressed in, thick as tar, but with each step, it eased as though his confidence parted the gloom. Soon, he spotted a blue glimmer in the distancemaybe the same mana pool Jack had described. Jack? Petros tried calling mentally but felt only the faint sense of Jacks presence in the physical realm; no direct guidance in here. Alright, he thought. This is my journey. He pressed on, the blue spark growing into a vast lake, glowing like bio-luminescent waters. The color reminded Petros of pictures hed seen of enchanted beaches on Earth, though this was no seaside phenomenon but a representation of his own internal mana. He knelt at the shore, peering into the luminous ripples. An urge to dive in warred with caution. Petros recalled Jacks warning: going too deep, too fast, could overwhelm him. Instead, he tentatively reached out, letting his fingertips graze the surface. A jolt of raw power surged, crackling through his spirit form. It felt cool and invigorating, yet also potentlike the potential for unstoppable magic if appropriately harnessed. Then, without warning, a hand shot from beneath the water, grabbing his arm in a vice-like grip. With terrifying speed, it yanked him headlong into the glowing depths. Petros had no time to scream, no chance to resistjust a rush of brilliant blue light and pounding adrenaline as he plunged below the manas surface.
Jack sat cross-legged across from Petros, eyes closed, breathing steadily. He could sense the boys presence drifting from the immediate surroundings into his own inner realmthe spiritual plane where a mages mana pool resided. Usually, Jack would leave Petros to explore alone, but a sudden shudder in the air made him stiffen. Something was wrong. He opened his eyes and found Petros before him, face twisted with distress. The boys lids twitched as though in the grip of a nightmare. Jacks heart thudded, remembering that Petros was only twelvedespite his brilliance and rapid leveling, he was still a child thrust into life-or-death magic. Petros, Jack said softly, setting a hand on the kids shoulder. Inside, he wrestled with panic. Petros didnt stir, remaining trapped in that silent terror. Jacks pulse spiked; his protective instincts roared to the surface. Petros! Jack tried again, more urgently, giving him a gentle shake. No response. Petross eyes stayed closed, flickering behind the lids in frantic motion. Jack inhaled, placing both hands on the boys shoulders, fighting to keep his voice calm but resonant. PETROS. Though his tone was subdued, he sent out a strong mental command, letting his own will reverberate through the intangible bond of shared meditation. The very air in the small inn room seemed to hum. Below them, the taverns patrons paused mid-bite, uncertain why their hair prickled or why the air briefly felt charged. Then, they carried on as if nothing had happened. At that moment, Petros gasped, eyes snapping open. Tears glistened on his cheeks. Before Jack could speak, the boy lurched forward, clinging to him in a fierce hug. Startled, Jack wrapped his arms around Petros, his chest twisting with concern. Its alright, Jack murmured, stroking Petross back. Youre safe now. Petross voice trembled against his shoulder. H-he wants us, Jack. Hes calling for us Jack frowned, holding the boy closer. Its okay, he said quietly, though his mind churned with questions. Who is he? He cant reach us, not here. Petros pulled away just enough to meet Jacks gaze, eyes still shining with tears. He can, Jack. You didnt see the power His voice was thick with lingering fear. The seriousness in Petross expression sparked a wave of protective resolve in Jack. Gradually, he allowed a mischievous grin to surface. It was the grin of someone who refused to be intimidated by gods or devils. Then well just get stronger, he said, voice brimming with the same confidence that once propelled him to chase exploits in every game he played. Something in that fearless grin soothed Petross panic. Though his heartbeat still hammered, he felt a surge of relief. We will get stronger, he echoed softly, mirroring Jacks determined smile. For a long moment, they simply breathed, letting the tension drain away, forging an unspoken vow between them: no matter who or what lurked in the dark realms, they would stand togetherlearning, leveling up, and defying any ancient force that dared to claim them. After a few minutes of letting his heartbeat settle, Petros tried to piece together what had happened in his meditation. Though the memory felt blurred, the sense of vast power and an ominous presence remained vivid. I was at my mana pool, he began quietly, voice still quivering with leftover adrenaline. It appeared as this huge lake. I could tell it was just a tiny portion of the Source beyondlike a drop in the ocean. He paused, swallowing hard. I barely touched the surface, feeling that surge but then something grabbed me, pulled me under, and for a moment, I His voice faltered. I knew things, Jack. Everything. Jack squeezed the boys shoulder in silent encouragement. But its faded now? he asked, though the answer was evident from Petross haunted expression. Yeah, Petros admitted. All I remember are these eyes, deep below the lake. When that hand dragged me down, I sensed someonesomethingoverwhelming. If Id gone any deeper, Id have been lost. A flicker of concern shadowed Jacks gaze. He recalled his own brush with an entity lurking near his mana tree. So Petros saw him, too. Despite the unease gnawing at him, Jack forced a reassuring tone. Well get stronger, Jack said firmly. Then whatevers hiding in our mana realms or the Source wont stand a chance. Petros took a shaky breath but offered a slight nod. We will get stronger, he echoed, borrowing Jacks ironclad resolve. A weight lifted between them, replaced by a current of determination. Jack had no plan beyond leveling up and mastering their spells, but that may be enough for now. They rose, heading out for fresh air and a better vantage on the day. The pair navigated the inns narrow steps, pushing into the town square. The morning bustle had picked up, merchants hawking produce, villagers exchanging gossip. Jack inhaled deeply, letting the energy of Pendle wash over him. Though an undercurrent of sinister possibility still lingeredsomewhere, someone was orchestrating something darkJack felt oddly invigorated. He couldnt stop thinking about Asil, imagining she was equally occupied forging her own path. Well reunite eventually, he promised himself, mentally crossing his fingers. Jack experimented with his newly refined senses as they threaded through the market stalls. He closed his eyes for a breath, half-meditating while walking, scanning the flow of the Source. He perceived swirling currents of mana hovering around people like invisible streams. Yet for most townsfolk, those streams never touched themlike a mighty river that ran just out of reach. Then Jack spotted Henry at his forge, hammering a piece of metal. Through Jacks heightened awareness, he noticed faint filaments of energy radiating around Henry, straining toward the Source as though longing for a connection. Another set of filaments from the Source reached back but remained disconnectedno bridging spark. What are you doing? Petros hissed under his breath, noticing Jack had halted in the middle of the street. Jack held up a hand, entranced by the patterns. What if I tried to help him connect? The moment the idea crossed his mind, he exerted a gentle mental nudge, willing Henrys energy to link with the swirling mana. At first, nothing changed. But then, slowly, the filaments trembled and alignedclickand Henrys aura brightened in Jacks inner vision, subtle power now flowing through him. Petros gasped, feeling a surge of energy from across the square. He whirled on Jack, wide-eyed. Jack what did you just do? Jack exhaled, swallowing a jolt of exhilaration. I think I connected him to the Source, he murmured, glancing at Henry. The blacksmith continued his work, oblivious to the subtle shift in his aura. So Henry has magic now? Petros pressed, still staring at the blacksmith. Jack gave a tentative nod. Probably. Itll be weak at firsthell have to level it up if thats even possible. But yeah. Petros looked both awed and alarmed. Thats insane. You cant just give people magic like that. Jack shrugged, a wry grin crossing his lips. Worked, didnt it? They exchanged a grim look, recalling Gondels many warnings. Petross face clouded. Are you sure we should be doing this? Gondel might well, lets just say I dont fully trust his motives. Jack nodded, setting a hand lightly on Petross shoulder. Lets keep this quiet for now, yeah? No reason to hand him ammunition against us. It stays between us. Petros returned the nod, heart pounding with the realization of how drastically they were reshaping Aerothanes status quo. Between us, he repeated softly, forging a new secret. And so they set off again, continuing down the roadtwo outworlders gaining powers at breakneck speed, forging silent pacts, and rewriting the rules of a severed magical land. Chapter 20: Margon’Tor Dawn spread soft gold across Fort Harjil as Asil, Abby, and the rest of their group trudged up to the main gate. After days of life-and-death skirmishesgoblins, alpha beasts, the strange figure at Fort Warrenthey felt a muted relief at the sight of the wooden palisade and watchtowers. Lucia padded beside Asil in her full wolf form, a reassuring constant in an ever-shifting world. A young guard recognized them at once, his tense features relaxing. Youve returned! he called, voice echoing in the early hush. Loren and Bonvil have been waitingbest you see them right away. Asil exchanged a quick, wry smile with Abby. The fort had become a kind of sanctuary, though each visit reminded them no place was truly safe in this realm. Passing the gate, they split upsome off to stow gear or snag breakfast, while Asil and Abby answered the summons to the war room. Inside a dim side chamber, Loren propped himself up with his cane, his weathered gaze fixed on Asil, while Bonvil leaned against a scarred oak table piled with maps and tactical notes. Welcome back, Loren said, relief warring with concern in his tone. Weve heard fragmentssomething about Fort Warren sealed off, and you battled more goblins? Asil cast a glance at Abby before recounting their travels. She described Their approach to Fort Warren, only to meet a mysterious woman at the gate who claimed they were unready and insisted they leave. Goblin ambushes, culminating in a fierce alpha goblin fightthe rescue of Lucia, a wounded wolf whod become an unexpected ally. Bonvils expression darkened at the mention of Warrens blocked entrance. Wed hoped it was simply deserted, but this suggests a more complicated presence. If a strangers calling you outworlders and referencing a Shadow Realm we need a strategy. Warren was once an allied outpost, but no word in years. Loren tapped his cane, pondering. We cant charge in blindly, not with rumors of demon sightings and the severed Source. Perhaps you can lead a scouting partyonce youre fully recovered. Carefully, he added, his stern glance reminding them how deadly these prospects were. Asil dipped her head. I agree. We wont push it. My group could use further training and a well, more unified plan. She carefully avoided naming level thresholds or the SR3 logic behind her caution. But we do suspect deeper threats lie beyond that gate. Bonvil let out a slow breath, exchanging a nod with Loren. Very well. Rest for now; keep your group ready. If we decide on infiltration, well need every advantage. A silence settled, each occupant feeling the weight of potential conflict. Finally, Loren mustered a tight smile. Glad you returned safely. We cant afford to lose you, Asil. With that, the two men dismissed them, leaving Asil and Abby to slip away into the forts courtyard.
Outside, the fort buzzed with its usual morning routine: recruits taking up drills, a smithys anvil ringing, supply wagons creaking through the gates. Asil steered Abby to a quieter corner near the barracks. This place feels changed, Abby murmured, arms crossed as she surveyed the yard. Like weve been gone far longer than we have. Asil nodded. Its not just here. The whole world is a copy of SR3s mechanics and lore. Everything lines upclasses, item drops, magical journals. Not so much is the place changing, but our perspectives. She paused. Youve never played SR3, but I have. We can exploit that knowledge. Abby pursed her lips. So we treat it like a giant game? Grind XP, find gear, do quests. Meanwhile, a real figure at Warren basically told us to stay away? A slight grin tugged at Asils face. Well gain strength first, then handle Warren and the Shadow Realm if it truly parallels SR3s dungeons. Probably a minimum threshold before we can handle it safely. For someone who hasnt gamed before, you seem to up up on the lingo Abby smiled at that, but a tug of sorrow hit her too, missing her brothers. They would talk nonstop about the game, so she picked up a few words here and there. Despite the dangers, a flicker of excitement underpinned their conversation. Theyd done well so far, thanks to cunning and synergyand yes, glimpses of game logic they recognized. A soft hum emanated from Asils enchanted journal, distracting them. She flipped it open, reading lines of glowing text:
Lucia (Level 1) Bonded Partner: Asil Hart Available Transformations: 1) Majestic Falcon C Ideal for scouting and aerial reconnaissance. 2) Spirit Fox C Intangible for brief periods, perfect for stealth. 3) Dachshund C Small, unassuming, nearly imperceptible.
Abby let out a surprised laugh. Dachshund? Are you serious? Thats an option for the big bad wolf? Even Asil had to smile, curiosity piqued by the incongruity. A small form can be handyslipping past open doors, surprising foes, or just comedic effect, she joked, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. Lets try it. She selected the Dachshund transformation. A light shimmer enveloped Lucia, shrinking her wolf body into an adorable, long-bodied hound. Lucia barked, her tail wagging, and both women fought off giggles. Weve got ourselves a wiener dog, Abby teased, stroking Lucias floppy ears. This is too good. Despite the whimsy, Asil felt her chest tighten, remembering how precarious their reality was. If a comedic form helped lighten the mood, so be it. After a moment, Abby cleared her throat. Hey, we forgot something in the war room: the alpha goblin core you got. We never mentioned it to Loren or Bonvil. Asil frowned, recalling the swirling alpha goblin loot. Right. They were so focused on Warrens gate, I didnt bring it up. She reached into her pouch, producing a smooth, orb-like core glimmered with latent power. I found it after that alpha fight. The journal says it can fuse with certain gear. Abby eyed it warily. You think itll help your sword from Loren? The one that nearly got destroyed by Crescent Strike before? A thoughtful smile curved Asils lips. Yes. If I can bond the core to the blade, it might give it stats to withstand the Crescent Strikes force. No more shattered swords. Abby nodded. Are you sure we should do that right now? Asil gazed at the quiet courtyard, then at her custom sword tucked at her side. I think so. I cant keep losing swords every time I use my best skill. We need every edge we can get. With a determined set to her jaw, Asil unsheathed the ornate weapon Loren had gifted. Holding it in one hand, alpha goblin core in the other, she focused on the sense of synergy shed felt from loot merges before. The journal glowed, runic text swirling as it recognized the impending fusion. Lucia, currently a dachshund, tilted her head curiously as if sensing the shift in mana. Abby watched in silent fascination. Here goes Asil murmured. Closing her eyes, she pictured the alpha goblin core merging with the swords inherent enchantment. Warmth pulsed through her grip, lines of faint energy snaking around the blades length. Soft arcs of light twined from the core into the swordlike threads weaving the two together. A subtle hum resonated, the metal shimmering with a new luster. Finally, the orb dissolved into motes of light, fully absorbed. A hush fell over them as Asil reopened her eyes. The swords hilt now bore a faint gleam, a silent testament to newfound resilience. The core becoming a gem affixed to the base of the blade near the hilt. A quiet ping echoed in Asils mind. She sensed a small level-up for herself, the journal confirming an increase in skill:
Alpha Goblin Core: Successful Fusion! Bound Weapon: Lorens Gift (Enhanced) +3 to Physical Damage +2 to Magical Damage (vs. Goblins, Beasts) Resilience to Crescent Strike: No durability loss on high-powered strikes Self-Repair: If placed into storage or scabbard for 6 hours, the blade fully regenerates minor damage Soulbound to Asil Hart
Abby exhaled a half-laugh. So does that mean no more swords disintegrating? Asil tested the balance, smiling in relief. Looks that way. And it feels stronger. Like I wont lose control mid-strike. Asil re-sheathed the custom sword with fresh confidence, pressing a hand to the scabbard as though thanking it for holding firm. Lucia barked happily as if sensing her partners triumph. Abby clapped once, a grin lighting her face. Well, thats one big upgrade. Next step? More training, more scouting, more infiltration? Asil nodded, recalling Loren and Bonvils caution. They wouldnt rush Fort Warren again until her team was ready and they hit level ten. Still, she felt that tension prickle at her spinea sense that time was ticking, the Shadow Realm, or worse, might not wait for them to level up at their leisure. We keep forging ahead, Asil said, voice taut with determination. And now Ive got a sword that can stand with me. A gentle breeze carried the smell of morning bread from the forts mess hall. Despite the undercurrent of looming dangerFort Warren, the locked gate, the figure who saw them as outworldersAsil clung to this moment of victory. A newly bonded weapon, an adorably minuscule Lucia at her side, and a plan to grow stronger with every quest. The following days blurred into an endless cycle of reports, skirmishes, and quick marches back and forth from Fort Harjil. Demons and goblins surfaced in pockets around the region, and each new threat tested the teams improving coordination. Asil and Abby divided the workload with precise planning: Gideon handled ranged support, Cressa bashed through the front lines, and Frederick refined his swordplay with every encounter. Lucia, ever adaptable, switched between her fearsome wolf shape and a comical dachshund form, putting foes off-guard and drawing more than a few laughs from the party. Their first mission came swiftlya small goblin pack terrorizing farmland to the east. Approaching under the morning sun, the groups synergy became clear. Abby, cloaked in shadows, took out the nearest goblin in a lethal Backstab before it could warn its comrades. Asil followed with a smooth Whirling Slash, the bladenow bolstered by the alpha goblin coreslicing effortlessly through two goblins without the slightest sign of damage. The fight ended in seconds, the team tagging each defeated foe to ensure an even XP share. In the days that followed, encounters became almost routine. They cornered a wandering demon near a shallow river, its furious roars echoing through the misty forest as they surrounded it in a tight formation. A goblin scouting party fared no better, especially when Lucia, in her diminutive dachshund guise, nipped at their ankles and caused confusion. Strategy blended with flashes of comic reliefAbbys rolling eyes whenever Asil compared each skirmish to grinding in SR3, and Asils triumphant grin whenever her updated sword held strong during a high-power strike. This is just like SR3s grinding mechanic, Asil remarked during one fight. Her enhanced sword sent a goblin sprawling, and she gave its corpse a nudge to ensure it was truly down. Tag everything, share the XP, and level up. Abby loosed a mock sigh, pulling her dagger free from a groaning goblin. Next, youll be reciting the old patch notes at me, she teased, though the results spoke for themselves. Every ambush and patrol raked in a modest bounty of copper coins, small demon cores, and the occasional potion. Abby found her Backstab technique growing sharper, and she unlocked a new skillFan of Knives, letting her fling a flurry of daggers that cut through multiple low-level enemies at once. Asil, meanwhile, sensed her Crescent Strike inching closer to some advanced variant, each kill seeming to strengthen the link between her abilities and the alpha-gifted sword. Eventually, confidence met a harsher reality. A mid-tier demon, wreathed in thick, flickering shadows, ventured dangerously close to the forts perimeter. The ensuing battle was nothing like the casual hunts theyd carried out. Abby feigned a quick retreat, blinking out of sight with Shadow Meld to lure the demon into an exposed clearing. Asil, waiting for the perfect moment, charged in to deliver a searing Crescent Strike that tore through the demons defenses. Yet the creature retaliated with startling ferocity, nearly skewering Frederick if not for Gideons well-aimed arrow and a quick shield block from Cressa. Even battered, the demon refused to collapse until Asil and Abby coordinated a second, final onslaught. Moments later, it dissolved in a swirl of smoke, leaving the team panting. A faint hum passed through Asils and Abbys journals, awarding them crucial experiences that nudged them a step closer to the target threshold. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Level 7, Asil exhaled, resting on her knee, sweat trickling down her temple. Just three to go before we can handle bigger stuff. Abby wiped soot from her cheek, offering a tired grin. Best days work weve had in a while. That evening, they gathered around a crackling campfire in a quiet clearing. In her dachshund shape, Lucia chased her tail with such enthusiasm that Frederick laughed aloud. Asil leaned back against a stump, her thoughts drifting toward the next milestone. I can feel a new Blade Dancer ability forming, she said, eyes gleaming at the idea. Its called Blade Storm, if memory serves from SR3. A whirling set of strikes that tear through anything within arms reach. Abby arched an eyebrow. Sounds flashy. You think your magic sword can handle that kind of power? A ghost of a smile crossed Asils face. Well see, she replied, patting the swords hilt, grateful its new resilience had yet to falter. The conversation flowed freely. Abby admitted her budding comfort in combata far cry from the timid friend Asil once knew. Frederick recounted a brush with a demons illusion earlier in the day, nearly tricking him into stepping off a ledge. Laughter mingled with the flicker of firelight, and for a moment, the days exhaustion melted away. At dawn, the fort relayed yet another report: a goblin raiding party edging too near for comfort. The group fell into a now-familiar routine, swiftly tracking the goblins and dispatching them with polished teamwork. Asils sword whirled in lethal arcs while Abbys Fan of Knives whittled down clusters of foes. The enemy stood no chance, culminating in another triumphant ping from each journal. Grinning, Asil wiped blood from her blade as she and Abby stood side by side, scanning their respective status screens. They shared a look of excitement. Level 9 for me, Asil noted, heart pounding with exhilaration. So close. Abby nodded, scrolling through her new skill options. Level 8 here. This is definitely working, but we cant stopFort Warren and the Shadow Realm might require a full team of tens. They pulled out their journals for a stats update:
Human: Asil Hart (Level 9) Class: Blade Dancer Power Drawn: Stamina Whirling Slash (Level 3): - Spin forward, damaging nearby foes. - Cost: Medium Stamina. - Cooldown: 10 seconds. Phantom Step (Level 2): - Short-distance dash or teleport for repositioning. - Cost: Low Stamina. - Cooldown: 10 seconds. Crescent Strike (Level 4): - Sword arc imbued with mystic energy, slicing multiple enemies. - Cost: High Stamina. - Cooldown: 30 seconds. Blade Storm (Level 1): - A whirling flurry of strikes, striking all nearby enemies multiple times. Extremely high damage output, requires stable blade synergy. - Cost: High Stamina. - Cooldown: 30 seconds. Mirage Waltz (Level 1): - Leaves behind a false image, distracting the enemy, giving a chance to slip away unseen. - Cost: High Stamina. - Cooldown: 30 seconds. Armor: Blade Dancers Circlet (Head) +3 to armor +1 to Stamina Self-Repair: Can fix itself over time if placed into storage. Weapon: Lorens Gift (Sword) Companion: Lucia (Level 7) Bonded Partner: Asil Hart Dachshund Form C Small, unassuming, nearly imperceptible. Wolf form Growl (level 3) - Distracts the enemies, taking attention away from the party - Cost: Low Stamina -Cool down: 30 seconds Wolf Hide -Adds +4 to armor for 30 seconds, heals 30% health -Cost: Medium Stamina -Cool down: 60 seconds Human: Abby Levine (Level 8) Class: Shadow Dancer Power Drawn: Shadow Energy (energy from the Shadow Realms) Shadow Meld (Level 2): - Blend into nearby shadows, gaining invisibility + movement speed. - Duration: 10 seconds after initial attack. - Cost: Low Shadow Energy. - Cooldown: 10 seconds. Backstab (Level 3): - Appear behind a target for massive critical damage. - Cost: Medium Shadow Energy. - Cooldown: 20 seconds. Fan of Knives (Level 1): C Launch a spread of daggers in an arc, hitting multiple weak targets at once. Low base damage but effective crowd control. - Cost: Medium Shadow Energy. - Cooldown: 30 seconds. Ebon Echo (Level 1): - Create an illusory double to confuse enemies + coordinate attacks. - Cost: High Shadow Energy. - Duration: 20 seconds. - Cooldown: 60 seconds. Weapon - Daggers of Vespa +4 to damage Return to storage if lost 37% chance of a critical strike when using Backstab Armor - Leather (Chest) +3 to armor +2 to Stamina Self-Repair: Can fix itself over time if placed into storage.
The day winding down, they decided to trek closer toward the Dark Woods on the route to Hajill, maybe investigating rumors of straggling monsters. Shadows lengthened across the path, and a quiet hush settled over the trees. Lucia, back in her wolf form, sniffed the air, ears perked in caution. Thats when a faint whisper rustled through the brush: Outworlder A chill raced down Asils spine. She spun to see a monstrous figure sliding from the dense canopy. At least ten feet tall, it had a hunched frame and six limbsfour muscular arms protruding from its torso, plus two elongated, twisted arms arching behind its shoulders. Each forearm bristled with pitch-black barbs, and the demons skin glistened in shifting colors of deep purple and sickly green. Its eyes burned with predatory intelligence, a low hiss rattling the undergrowth. Asils and Abbys journals flared with frantic text:
MargonTor (Greater Demon) C Level 12
Gideon froze mid-step while Frederick raised his sword in trembling disbelief. The demons multiple arms flexed, each lined with sharp talons that could rip through metal. Its voice carried a guttural resonance, repeating the word Outworlder, almost savoring it. Asil swallowed, adrenaline surging. She could feel Cressa shifting her stance, gripping her mace, while Lucia bared her fangs in a warning growl. The monstrous demon took another step, the ground trembling beneath its weight. In that electrifying moment, none of them knew if they could match such a foeor if their hard-won synergy and newly gained levels would be enough. Heart pounding, Asil tightened her grip on her alpha-gifted sword, preparing to face down a nightmare that dwarfed any challenge theyd yet encountered. The forest stilled as the towering demon emerged from the gloom. Ten feet tall, MargonTors slick violet hide gleamed in the half-light, four muscular arms protruding from its torso, and two elongated limbs curving ominously behind its broad shoulders. Its eyes glowed with an unearthly hue, and when it spoke, its voice carried the faint echoes of a hundred tortured souls. Outworlder, it hissed, each syllable dripping with cruel amusement. Asils blood ran cold at the word, recalling the ominous warnings shed overheard. She squared her stance, her enhanced swordLorens Gift, infused with the alpha goblin corevibrating beneath her grip. A glance to her right found Abby, daggers bristling with lethal potential. Gideon kept an arrow nocked, and Frederick stood resolute beside him, blade at the ready. Cressa hefted her mace, determined glare set on the demons hunched frame. A short distance behind, Eamon flipped feverishly through his notes, calling out updates. Lucia, fully in her wolf form, stepped forward first, hackles raised as a low growl rumbled from her throat. MargonTor flexed its six total armsfour heavily muscled in front, the two elongated behind its shoulders lashing like hungry serpents. Eamons voice cut through the heavy air: Aim for those extra arms! Gideon, keep firing from a distancedont let it close in! Gideon loosed an arrow, the shaft striking one of the demons front arms with a sickening thud. MargonTor snarled and lurched forward, fury twisted across its features. Before it could lunge at Gideon, Frederick rushed in, delivering a quick, calculated slash that forced the demon to turn its furious gaze on him instead. One of the elongated arms swung around in a vicious arc, barely missing Fredericks head as he ducked low and countered with another slash. Asil took that moment to dart in, channeling Crescent Strike. The arc of energy carved into MargonTors ribs, black ichor oozing from the wound. Yet the demon barely staggered, letting out a roar that reverberated through the clearing. Abby vanished into a flicker of shadow and reappeared behind the demon, burying her daggers into one of its writhing shoulder arms. MargonTor let out a crazed laugh, thick arms swinging to dislodge Abby. Another arrow from Gideon struck its hide, but the demon, eyes blazing, began chanting in a guttural snarl. The air at its feet contorted with warped energy, and three smaller demons crawled forth on all fours, eyes glowing with malice:
Demon (Level 9) Demon (Level 9) Demon (Level 9)
Eamon cried out, Theyre summoning reinforcements! Split up and handle those new ones! Abby, mid-Shadow Meld, pivoted away from MargonTor to intercept the first lesser demon. Frederick clashed blades with the second, matching it strike for strike. The third lunged for Gideon, only to be blindsided by Lucias feral snarl. The wolf unleashed her Growl, the thunderous sound momentarily freezing the demon in its tracks. Lucia then activated Wolf Hide, a shimmering aura covering her pelt. The demons claws raked futilely along the protective energy, allowing Gideon to release an arrow at point-blank range into its throat. Asil sliced through the second demon with a deft Whirling Slash, while Abbys Backstab finished off the first, leaving only MargonTor againbut with a seething fury in its expression. Wounded but still formidable, MargonTor hissed out another guttural phrase. The air bent once more, and three larger forms materialized:
Demon (Level 10) Demon (Level 10) Demon (Level 10)
Its eyes glowed with triumph as these higher-level fiends ambled forward, each brandishing vicious weapons or natural claws. The party already felt exhaustion tug at their limbs from earlier fights, but they spread out to meet this second wave. Asil intercepted one demon, blending Phantom Step with another decisive Crescent Strike to bring it down. Abby danced among the shadows for a ruthless combination of Fan of Knives and stealth kills, while Frederick and Gideon teamed up on the third, a rapid mix of arrow strikes and sword thrusts. Lucia, protective instincts flaring, tackled one demons legs with savage bites, letting Cressa deliver a crushing blow to its exposed head. The newly summoned demons collapsed in heaps of foul smoke, leaving MargonTor himself staggering slightly under the weight of accumulated wounds. Yet his fury peaked at that moment, an otherworldly roar echoing in the clearing. Two of its torso arms lashed at Asil, forcing her back. The demons elongated arms curled above its head, coalescing crackling energy. Eamon, near the treeline and calling out suggestions, realized the demons target far too late. Spirit boltwatch out! he yelled. The jagged lance of black energy tore from MargonTors palm, streaking straight for Eamon. Cressa stepped in without hesitation, throwing herself into the path of the bolt. It struck her chest, sending her sprawling backward with a cry, her mace spinning from her hand. Eamon rushed to her side, horror etched into his features. MargonTor let out a triumphant howl, brandishing all six arms as though ready to deliver final carnage. Fury and desperation electrified the group. Abby and Asil locked eyes, needing no words. Frederick exhaled sharply, mustering his last reserve of energy. Frederick charged first, slashing at MargonTors legs to unbalance it. Abby vanished into the gloom, reappearing in a blink behind the demons broad shoulders, daggers plunging into its hide. With all her will, Asil tapped the alpha-powered sword for one final, devastating move. Melding Crescent Strike with a partial Whirling Slash, she unleashed a frenzy of sword arcs at MargonTors core. The demon howled as black ichor sprayed, limbs flailing in vain as the lethal strikes hammered its vital points. With a final screech of pain, MargonTor convulsed and collapsed, its body dissolving into a cloud of greasy, foul-smelling smoke. The clearing fell silent except for the teams ragged breathing and the sizzle of demonic residue dissipating. Loot notifications lit up in their journalshints of a Greater Demon Core, shadow essence, and other potential treasuresbut no one moved to retrieve them. All eyes turned to Cressa. She lay pale on the ground, armor scorched, her breathing terrifyingly faint. Eamon cradled her head, voice trembling with urgency. Shes alive but barely. Frederick carefully lifted Cressas limp body, shoulders tight with fear. Lucia, still in wolf form, whimpered low in her throat, nuzzling Cressas hand as though begging her to wake up. Asil slid her sword back into its scabbard, adrenaline still racing through her system, and Abby stared grimly at the space where MargonTor had vanished. Back to the fort, now, Asil said, voice taut with command. They gathered themselves for the desperate trek. The monstrous threat might be gone, but the price of victory was heartbreakingly clear. Whether Cressa would survive her courageous sacrifice remained the great unknown as they limped toward Fort Harjil, battered but together, determined that her stand would not be in vain. Chapter 21: I still dont know if death is final The old man lingered in the narrow alley between the tailors shop and the bakery, watching from the shadows as Jack linked the unsuspecting blacksmith to the Source. A tight grin flickered across the observers face, only to fade as he glanced behind, fully expecting to find a little girl with pigtails standing there. When he saw no one, his keen eyes returned to Jack and Petros strolling across Pendles bustling square. They soon encountered Raven, the taverns barmaid. Petros, cheeks reddening at the sight of the older teen, tried his best to be casual, stammering out a greeting. Meanwhile, Jack looked at Ravens loose filaments with curiosity and eagerness. Before Petros realized what was happening, Jack used his strange new ability to connect her to the Source. Still hidden in the alleys gloom, the old man frowned deeply. His mind churned with the possible consequences of championing someone with such reckless generosityand how it might unsettle the fragile balance of this severed realm. A quiet sigh escaped the observers lips. He stepped back into the darkness, trusting hed chosen the right mortal for the job. Jacks trajectory might be more promising than those who failed before him.
Jack and Petros proceeded out of town, the roads quickly thinning into a rugged path heading west. Petros opened his journal while they walked. After his meditations with Jack, hed leveled up twice, enough to boost his mana regeneration and Soul Mend to Level 2. He mentioned his new Life Surge skill againthe powerful resurrection ability acquired after hed saved a little girls life back in Pendle. I still dont know if death is final here, Petros said, flipping through the scrawling text in his journal. But if something happens to you, Ill have a shot at bringing you back. Jack offered a wry grin, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Id rather not test that if we can help it. They passed an older woman driving a wagon toward Pendle, a boy and girl perched beside her. Petros noticed how Jack focused on the children, who greeted them politely as they rode by. The moment the wagon was out of earshot, Petros raised an eyebrow. You did it again, didnt you? he asked, half-accusing, half-amused. Jack shrugged, pinching thumb and forefinger together. Only a little nudge, the girl already had the potential. Like flipping a switch. Petros shook his head, but a smile tugged at his lips. The ripple effects of connecting random townsfolk to the Source were too big to fathom right now, and they still had Gondels training to complete. When they arrived at Gondels campsite, a modest clearing where a small cabin and two archaic pods sat half-concealed by runic inscriptions, they found the wizard crouched at a fire, boiling water for tea. He looked up as they approached, offering a smile that never reached his eyes. Welcome back, Gondel said, rising to his feet. I trust you kept busy in Pendle. Petros, there are books waiting inside. Oloms Principles of Arcania and Chronicles of the Sevenfold Seal. Compare Oloms theories on sigil traps with the higher-level conjuring methodshe missed something crucial. Petros nodded eagerly and hurried into the cabin, leaving Jack alone with Gondel. The old wizard gestured at the pouch slung across Jacks side. Lets see what youve crafted, then. Jack conjured his staff with a showmans flourish, a crooked grin on his face. Gondel squinted, distrust evident. He held out his hands, expecting Jack to pass it over, but Jack kept it balanced atop his palms, as though it refused to let anyone else hold it. Gondel tentatively reached for the staff, only to have his fingers pass right through the wood as if it were an illusion. A scowl deepened Gondels features. What have you done? he muttered, stepping back warily while Jacks staff re-solidified in the young mans grip. Im not totally sure. Jacks expression was half-sheepish, half-proud. It behaves like it doesnt want to be touched by anyone but me. Gondel leaned in again, studying the twelve runes etched into the staffs upper section, four symmetrical rows flaring out near the top. The metal finial at the tip drew his eyefinely wrought by Henry, presumably. He had to admit the craftsmanship was superior, but worry lined his brow. You learned these runic arts in your homeland? Gondel asked in a measured voice, fingers drumming the air in vague patterns. Jacks cheek twitched with embarrassment. He almost denied it, but recalled that Asils notes about SR3 were the actual source. Lets say yes, we dabbled in such theories. The wizard nodded slowly. Unsure how to proceed, he pointed at the metal cage-like finial. Right now its empty. Wed want a proper incantation to embed a monster core or crystal but first, we must prepare the staff with wards. Jack brightened at the mention of a core. He rummaged in his pouch until his fingers closed around a particular orb: the Alpha Wolf Core from a previous kill. Before Gondel could react, Jack slammed the orb into the staffs filigreed top. Gondels eyes went wide with horror. No, you fool Gondel cried, lunging forward. He tried to grab Jacks wrist, but the moment Jack pressed the orb into place, energy flared. A sudden shock lashed out, throwing Gondel backward a few steps. The wizard caught himself before hitting the ground, glowering as the staffs finial began to glow. The wolf core merged seamlessly, morphing into a translucent orb of swirling blue. What have you done! Gondel barked, leveling a furious glare at Jack. I told you theres a procedure. Rituals. Incantations. You cant justjust jam a monster core in your staff on a whim. The repercussions Jack swallowed hard, not wanting to provoke the wizard further. I thought you meant I needed a gem to complete the design. And it was an alpha wolf core that might Gondel cut him off, voice taut with anger. You know nothing of the chain reactions that can result from an improper binding. There can be a backlash or contamination, especially if you havent purified the core or warded the staff with synergy spells. His knuckles whitened at his side, and for a moment, it looked as if he might snatch the staff away despite the risk of another shock. Jack spread his hands in apology. Honestly, sir I didnt see a problem. My staff needed a finishing piece. Gondel exhaled slowly, forcing composure. We must observe itat least. If the synergy proves unstable, youll face far more than a broken staff. The Source isnt a toy, boy. Not for you, not for Petros, not for anyone. The tension lingered. Jack held the staff at his side, reluctant to say more. Gondel slowly approached, swirling patterns of energy dancing over the staffs new orb. His anger gave way to a kind of resigned concern, as if he realized it was already too late to undo Jacks impulsive act. I do hope, Gondel muttered, rubbing his still-tingling arm, that your numbskull instincts are worth the cost we might soon pay. Gondel slipped away from Jack without a word, pacing the perimeter of his camp with a furrowed brow. The campfire crackled behind him, casting jittery shadows across the threadbare clearing, while Jack remained near the lone cabin, fiddling uneasily with the staff that had just caused such an outburst. The old wizard needed time to think, to wrestle with the implications of everything that Jack had done in a days time. He recalled vividly how, in the mere twenty-four hours since Jack had first demonstrated his abilities, the man had grown exponentially strongerat a rate Gondel had never witnessed in his entire two centuries of life here. Gondels mind churned with the risks: One wrong step could implode this entire region. Something had changed in the fundamental laws of magic since the Great Disconnect. Maybe it was the presence of these newcomers or the worlds magic straining to be unleashed. Gondel only knew that Jack and the boy named Petros were shaping up to be the keys to restoring everything hed lost. Yet the old wizard couldnt ignore the danger. One grievous error, and the entire area could be annihilated in the ensuing magical backlash. Was the gamble worth it? Gondel exhaled slowly, reminding himself that he might have to accept a Jack with so little caution to achieve his goalunlocking the Source and returning magic to Aerothane. So he let out a resigned huff and decided to see this through. Meanwhile, standing by the fire, Jack allowed curiosity to get the better of him. Concentrating on the mage sight hed recently discovered, he peered at Gondel through his minds eye. He could see filamentsthe same faint threads of potential hed spotted in Henry or Raven. But unlike with them, Gondels strands looked cauterized. Where the blacksmiths or barmaids filaments reached out eagerly, Gondels were severed and sealed, as though burned at the roots. Worse, Jack noticed that while filaments from the Source drifted toward Gondel, they were weak and aimless, as if they remembered him but no longer recognized him properly. It pained Jack to see that the once-mighty wizard indeed was cut off. On a whim, Jack considered trying to reconnect him, but the weird finality of those severed ends made him balkinstinct said he couldnt. Or shouldnt. Inside the battered shack, Petros sat hunched over a narrow table, an oil lamp providing weak illumination as he pored over two large tomes: Oloms Principles of Arcania and Chronicles of the Sevenfold Seal. Gondel had commanded him to cross-reference the two. Still, instead of discovering holes or missing theories, Petros realized each author looked at magic from different anglestwo men describing the same elephant but from opposite sides. Occasionally, Petros paused, flipping to a side reference in a third open book: Shadow Tongue, with scrawled translations in the margins. A slight smile played on his lips. The puzzle pieces clicked together in his mind, bridging sigil-based conjurations with high-level arcane logic. His revelations came in a sudden burst of clarity. The synergy that neither Olom nor Jaq (the writer of Chronicles) had independently nailed down now made sense when Petros layered both approaches and factored in the hidden grammar of the Shadow Tongue. Before he knew it, his journal buzzed with level notifications. He ignored them, too engrossed in scribbling new notes, adrenaline surging at the idea of real spells he might test out. He didnt look up until the door opened with a gentle creak. Jack walked in, exhaling a sigh that rustled the dust in the cabins stale air. I think I broke Gondel, he said wryly, glancing over his shoulder at the old mans distant figure. Petros rested a hand on one of the open tomes, meeting Jacks gaze with a knowing grin. Hed heard the commotion outside. You cant help yourself, can you? Jack shrugged, half-grin on his face. Hell get over it. Or he wont. You know how it is. Anyway, hows the reading going? Petros laid down his quill and gave the wizard manuals a fond pat. Pretty good. I think Im onto something biglike bridging the differences in these conjuring methods. I can adapt these spells for healing or advanced support if I''m right. I leveled up twice just from the insights alone. Excitement danced in his eyes, though he tempered it with caution. Want to go test some theories? Or maybe do more meditation? Jack glanced behind him at the gloom settling over the clearing where Gondel paced. I doubt hell want me around right now. You read my mind, kid, he said, subtly gesturing to Petros to gather his gear. Lets give the old wizard some space. Maybe well practice further out in the woods. Petros nodded eagerly. In a flurry of motion, he stashed his new and old volumes, plus the extra notes and the Shadow Tongue guide, into his pouch. For a moment, he paused at Chronicles of the Sevenfold Seal, fingers trailing over the ornate cover, before gently tucking it away as well. Lead the way, Jack. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. As they slipped outside, they could see Gondels silhouette on the far edge of the clearing, arms folded behind his back as he stared at the purple sky. He didnt acknowledge them leaving. Jack caught Petross inquisitive look and offered a reassuring nod. Trust me, Jack whispered. Hell stew, but he wont stop us. At least not yet. With that, they vanished into the twilight of the forest path. Overhead, the first stars winked into being, and somewhere behind them, Gondel quietly wrestled with his regrets, hopes, and the unstoppable force of Jacks impulsive magic. Whether Jacks next steps would genuinely break the old wizards plan or complete it remained to be seen. They moved away from Gondels camp without any real destinationheading north, away from the busier roads, just following the winding forest path. Jack led the way, staff propped casually on his shoulder. Petros trailed him, absorbed in recounting the lore hed learned from Gondels books. Saul trotted a few paces ahead, ears perked for any sign of danger. Petros explained how, before the Great Disconnect, the war with the demon forces was all but lost. An apocalyptic struggle ravaged Aerothane, countless lives consumed by the Demon Gods armies. Even the precise name of this deity was fearedno one dared record it, lest writing it invoke his wrath anew. The tide finally turned when a desperate spell banished the Demon God from Aerothane, but at a monstrous cost: most of the mages who performed the incantation were annihilated by its raw power. Gondel survived as one of the three final high wizards, but the resulting severed magic left himand the worldhopelessly disconnected from the Source. Aerothanes races scattered after that, Petros said, pushing aside a low-hanging branch. Elves and dwarves disappeared, fae folk retreated, and orcs no one has seen them in ages. Humans tried to rebuild, but the monarchy was virtually wiped out. Goblins kept to themselves until recently. Now it looks like theyre getting bolder, maybe sensing the Demon Gods return. Jack gave a low whistle at the scale of it all. Sounds like we arrived just in time for a second apocalypse. Petros rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe. Gondels been hiding out for centuries with barely any residual magic. But something in the laws changed. You and I He shrugged. We might be the key to reconnecting everything. Or at least thats what the wizards notes hinted. Saul suddenly froze, letting out a low growl. He turned to Jack with a warning glance. Petros swallowed, scanning their surroundings. Thats the goblin camp, right? he asked, glancing at the trail branching off to the left. Jack nodded, eyes narrowing. They had decided to come here purposefullyto test their new spells and gather experience. According to the hints from their journals, the encampment housed multiple mid-tier goblins and maybe an alpha or two. They crept closer, noticing the cluster of crude tents pitched around a small fire. Petross journal buzzed with an update:
Goblin (Level 8) x5 Goblin (Level 9) x7 Alpha Goblin (Level 10) x2
The plan was to strike from a distance, whittle them down with spells, then let Saul handle any stragglers. But just as Jack opened his mouth to outline a cautious approach, a Level 8 goblin stumbled upon them, literally mid-urination behind a bush. The goblin blinked in shock, dropped its makeshift weapon, and scrambled to sound the alarm. Too late, Jack said, cracking a grin. He raised his staff, a spark of lightning dancing along the runes. Chain Lightning. A surge of electricity leapt forward, striking the goblin and leaving it smoldering on the ground. Hysterical cries rang out as the remaining thirteen charged from the camp, brandishing spears and jagged blades. Petros inhaled sharply, the adrenaline hitting him like a jolt. Guess were doing this the hard way. Saul sprang forward, letting out a bone-rattling growl at a Level 9 goblin that came dangerously close to Petros. The goblin tried to slash the wolf, but Saul activated Wolf Hide mid-lunge, a faint shimmer reinforcing his pelt. With a snapping bite, he pinned the goblin, finishing it before it could cry for reinforcements. Jack planted his staff in the dirt, synergy crackling through his fingertips. Petros nodded, stepping behind him to cast Spirit Guardian, summoning a faint, gold-tinged aura that circled them protectively. A pack of goblins barreled closer, weapons raised. Flames arced from above as Fire Rain rained down, courtesy of Jacks newly buffed magic. Two Level 8 goblins fell instantly, but the others hissed and darted around the scorched earth. Petros kept healing Jacks nicks and bruises, while also buffing Saul whenever the wolf pounced on another target. Could use some wide crowd control, Petros muttered. Got it, Jack replied. Planting his feet, he slammed the butt of his staff into the ground. Earth Shatter. The soil trembled beneath the rushing goblins, creating fissures that tripped them. Several tumbled headlong, momentarily vulnerable. But the final two Level 9 goblins and both alpha goblins (Level 10) roared defiantly, leaping over the cracks. They converged on Jacks position, forcing him on the defensive. Even with his staffs enhancements, the onslaught was intense. He let loose another Chain Lightning, only to find the alpha goblin absorbing most of the blow with a grunt. Saul tried to flank, jaws snapping at the bigger alpha, but the goblin activated Rage, a bestial aura that hardened its skin to near-impenetrable resilience. The wolfs fangs skidded harmlessly along the alphas hide. Petros rushed in, casting a heal on Saul to make sure he didnt get battered aside. The other alpha goblin tackled Jack, knocking him flat on his back. One clawed hand battered at Jacks chest, each strike half-deflected by a hastily raised mana shield, Jack taking advantage of his newly acquired mana control. Petros sprinted over, letting the final pulses of Spirit Guardian hamper the goblins swings. The alpha activated its ability, Bolder Fist, both arms raised for a lethal finishing move. Jack braced himself for a final blow, but Petros flared a healing burst, distracting the alpha just enough for Jack to slip free. Jacks staff glowed as he gritted his teeth. Zural Naath. He uttered the runic words carved into the stafftwo of the twelve runes hed painstakingly inscribed. A surge of soul-damaging magic rippled along the staff and into the alpha. The goblin screeched in shock as a bluish aura ripped through its spirit. With a final shudder, the alpha dropped, collapsing on top of Jack in a lifeless heap. Petros hurriedly helped roll the goblins massive body off his friend. Jack lay there a moment, panting, bruised but alive. The last of the lesser goblins had scattered or lay dead, leaving the campsite eerily quiet. Petros ran his hands over Jacks injuries, channeling the last of his mana to seal cuts and bruises. Saul limped over, tail wagging weakly, blood matting his fur from lesser scrapes. Petros healed the wolf as well, ignoring his own fatigue. Slowly, Jack stood, staff clutched in his right hand. Their journals buzzed with furious messageslevel ups, skill unlocks, possible alpha goblin loot. He exchanged a tired grin with Petros. Worth it? Petros asked, lips quivering between a laugh and a groan. Jack exhaled, scanning the carnage. I guess so. We needed the experience and its a step closer to being unstoppable, right? Petros smiled despite the dark stains on his robe. One step, yeah. Just hope we dont run into anything bigger soon. Jack and Petros collapsed onto a lichen-coated stump to rest, the pungent scent of damp earth lingering in the air. Saul, exhausted, sprawled at their feet, occasionally twitching in a snore. A deep, tired silence settled over them until Jack began to laugh out of nowhere. It started as a soft chuckle but soon grew raucous, gasping hilarity, leaving him nearly doubled over. Petros stared in confusion, but the mirth was contagious; before long, the young Spirit Warden was laughing so hard he fell right off the stump. Saul stirred, lifting an ear to peek at the two humans flailing about, then simply huffed and drifted back to sleep. This game is the balls, Jack finally managed to say once he caught his breath, still lying on the ground gazing at the canopy above. Petroshands folded behind his headjust nodded, grinning up at the clouds. The chaos and intensity of their battles had momentarily given way to a delirious sense of relief. After a moment, Petros shifted to look at Jack. What spell did you use on that last alpha goblin? You shouted Zural Naath. That wasnt in the normal cast list, was it? Jack rolled his head to face Petros. Its two runes etched into my staff. I guess they mean Soul and Void in the Shadow Tongue? I channeled mana through them, specifically to damage the goblins spirit. Honestly, it was instinctsomething I half-remembered from Asils old SR3 lore. Shed do all these deep dives. Petros smiled, recalling his own excitement about bridging magical theories from Gondels books. I cant wait to meet her, he said, then caught himself. I mean, properly meet her. I hardly spoke a word to her at the beta office before we ended up here. Jack let out a soft sigh. Shes amazing. Shell definitely get a kick out of you, though. Youre an even bigger lore-hound than she is. A gentle stillness settled over them as they each thought about family far away in Aerothane, forging their own paths. Eventually, Jack sat up, rummaging for his journal. Petros followed suit, absently raising a hand. His own journal simply appeared, phasing into reality. Huh, convenient, Jack muttered. You conjure it now like I do my staff. Petros flipped open the book, scanning new notifications. Yeah, its neat. So, do you see weird inconsistencies in your pages? he asked, tapping an oddly worded line in his own. Like the text changes format. Maybe the devs are adjusting it on the fly? Jack frowned thoughtfully. Thats my guess too or something else is going on. But for now, lets just roll with it. The small talk gave way to excitement when Petros noticed another cluster of system messages. Oh geez, I leveled up twice again! he cried. Im up to Level 8 now. I must have gained a ton of XP from that alpha kill and all these other goblins. DING indeed, Jack teased, flipping through his own pages. Same here. Im 8 as well. Must be from channeling my runes and leveling chain lightning and stuff. Sweet. A fresh wave of adrenaline coursed through them as they tallied the loot gleaned from the goblin corpses. They both picked up standard goblin cores, a special alpha core, coins, and ragged trinkets that might be worth a bit of coin. Jack also scavenged a few battered goblin toolsworthless at first glance, but he tucked them away anyway. Petros found some leftover scraps of pelt and metals, splitting them with Jack. Think I can upgrade my outfit with some of these, Jack mused, picturing fresh gear to fit his staff-wielding aesthetic. Petros chuckled as he snared a chunk of battered iron. We can give these to Henry. He might do something with them. Or well find a new blacksmith if you keep linking people to the Source. Once they were rested and fully healedPetross improved mana regeneration made quick work of restoring their staminathey pressed on, letting their newly heightened senses guide them deeper into the woods. Their mutual synergy allowed them to pinpoint smaller goblin camps that popped up, keen to test their growing strengths and accelerate their leveling. By nightfall, theyd located another goblin outpost near what looked like an abandoned mine entrance. Seven goblins milled about the perimeter, none above Level 9. With Petross subtle scanning, they crept into position, unleashing an evening ambush aided by starlight. Petros provided a soft glow of Spirit Guardian to shield Jack while he rained chain lightning on two startled lookouts. Saul roamed the perimeter, pouncing with ferocious growls and layering Wolf Hide for protection. The goblins scrambled in panic, outmatched by the calm efficiency of Jacks spells and Petross timely buffs. Within minutes, the outpost was cleared, leaving them more loot to stash and lumps of ore that glinted in the moonlight. The pair continued in a similar cycle for the next few dayswandering through remote areas, crushing any goblin pockets they found, and learning new spells. Petros tested advanced healing arrays, gleaned from Chronicles of the Sevenfold Seal. Jack refined his staff-based runic attacks, weaving Zural Naath with variations of chain lightning or earth shatter. Each encounter brought a sense of rising momentum; a trio of Level 9 goblins posed no threat at all by the second day, and alpha goblins fell to cunning synergy between Saul, Petross healing, and Jacks staff channeling. By the end of the third day, theyd carved out a sizable safe zone north of Pendle, systematically pushing back goblin forces. Petros nearly dropped his journal in surprise when it updated mid-fight to reflect that hed just hit Level 10. Jack, not far behind, soared to Level 11 after chaining some impressive kills. Their half-exhausted and half-victorious laughter echoed through the silent woods as they realized how far theyd come in such a short span. Our pockets are loaded with cores and coins, Petros remarked when they finally decided to head back, balancing a large satchel of random scraps. And were seriously leveling like its nobodys business. Jack grinned, staff slung across his back. Told you this is game logic on steroids. Once Asil sees how far Ive come He trailed off, yearning for a reunion with his wife. They set off southward, spirits high. Petros hummed in anticipation of showing Gondel his progress. The old wizard might gripe about the unorthodox methods, but Petros was now brimming with insights for conjuration, ready to blow open more of Gondels arcane dogmas. Jacks mind wandered to forging new alliances, reuniting with the rest of the outworlders, and pushing the frontier of Aerothanes severed magic. Meanwhile, Saul trotted behind them, muzzle flecked with dried goblin blood, as if proud to be part of the unstoppable trio. The hush of the forest parted around them, letting the days final light usher them closer to civilizationand maybe, at last, a plan that could restore the Source to a land desperate for hope. A week into their grueling hunts, the trio turned south to return, loot-filled packs and newly-honed skills in tow. Without warning, Jack froze, his senses crackling with sudden alarm. Petros caught the sharp change in Jacks expression and glanced over, puzzled, until he too felt a faint, ominous stirring in the airthough far weaker than Jacks keen perception. Theres trouble in Pendle, Jack said in a hushed, urgent tone, breath quickening. A gang of thugs... invading. No one questioned his claim. Petross eyes widened, heart already racing, and Saul bristled in at the spike of tension rippling through Jack. In unspoken agreement, they broke into a run, tearing down the forest to the road with resolute haste. Pendle lay less than an hour away, but whatever threatened the town was already in motion. They could only hope to arrive before catastrophe struck. Chapter 22: You think we’re actually ready for this? The rising sun gilded the horizon as Asil and Abby approached the outskirts of Fort Warren. The timing had been deliberatefirst light meant visibility, an edge, maybe even an omen. Behind them, a mile back, Gideon, Frederick, Eamon, Lucia, and the newly recruited Rowan and Hilda waited with the last of their supplies. This final stretch was for Asil and Abby alone. The fortress loomed ahead. Massive iron-barred gates, still rusted and entangled in blackened ivy, stood shut as they had before, but something about them felt different now. Perhaps it was the weight of the knowledge they carried. Perhaps it was the growing certainty that this was not a fortress meant to keep people out, but to keep something inside. They stepped forward. Asil faltered. A sudden, crushing pressure slammed into her chesta force, unseen and suffocating. Her breath caught, her vision blurred, and the ground beneath her tilted as if reality itself had split apart. Her knees buckled. Abby caught her before she hit the dirt. "Asil!" Abbys grip tightened around her arm, her voice sharp with alarm. "What the hell? Talk to me." The words sounded far away. Asil gasped, eyes darting upward just as the sky snuffed out. The sun was gone. A void of endless black stretched above them. No moon. No stars. Just a sky so hollow it seemed to swallow sound itself. Abbys heart hammered as she twisted around, expectingprayingto see the golden glow of morning still lingering behind them. It was. A heartbeat away, the world was still dawn. The road behind them, the trees, the landscapeuntouched. But here, where they stood? Midnight. Abby swore under her breath. "This is wrong," she whispered, shifting her stance as if the darkness itself might move. "Asil, what is this? Some kind of illusion?" Asils breathing steadied, though her pulse still thrummed painfully in her skull. "No," she murmured, her voice hoarse. "This isnt an illusion. Weve crossed into the Shadow Realm. Or something close." Abby let out a slow breath, trying to shake the icy sensation crawling up her spine. "Fort Warren Its stuck in permanent night, isnt it?" Asil nodded, swallowing the dread rising in her throat. She could feel it nowthe weight, the emptiness, the wrongness. She turned toward the gates, their silhouette barely visible in the abyss. "It wasnt built to keep us out," she whispered. "It was built to keep something inside." A heavy silence stretched between them. Then, Abby pulled a short wooden stake from her pack and, without a word, drove it into the ground. They watched. Half of it remained visible, catching the first glow of morning. But the other halfthe half buried in the creeping darkvanished. Asil stared at the empty space where the stake should have been. Abby exhaled sharply. "That confirms it." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Fort Warren is in the Shadow Realm." Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Then Abby said, softer this time, "You think were actually ready for this?" A week ago, Asil would have answered without hesitation. They had fought, trained, leveled up. She had forced herself forward, pushing past exhaustion, past hesitation. Because if they reached the right numbers, they could handle this. That had been the logic. But now standing at the threshold? "Were at level," Asil said, forcing a smirk. "But being the right level doesnt mean were ready." And something inside that fortress was waiting.
Four days earlier, Fort Harjil had been suffocating with tension. Cressa lay in the infirmary, barely clinging to life. Her once-powerful form had wasted to a fragile, trembling husk. The wound from MargonTors spirit bolt had not healed. It refused to heal. Her breathing had grown shallow, her skin cold. Every attemptevery healing spell, every salve, every remedy Loren and Geraldine knewhad only delayed the inevitable. Eamon had stayed awake through the night, poring over his leather-bound notebooks, fingers trembling as he flipped through pages of theory, spells, possible solutions. But he knew. They were losing her. Frederick stood near the doorway, jaw clenched tight enough to crack his teeth. "If Id just been faster," he muttered, voice rough with guilt. "If I" "Stop." Abbys voice cut through the thick air like a blade. She stood with arms crossed, expression unreadable. "Theres a cure," she said simply. "There has to be. Even if we have to march to the edge of the world to find it." Before anyone could answer, heavy footfalls pounded down the corridor. Bonvil. He burst into the room, breathless, his younger son Jon right behind him. They had been gone for two days. A two-day journey to Pendle and back, riding through the night to return without delay. Bonvil barely paused to catch his breath before he spoke. "We have news," he said. His gaze swept across them before settling on Loren. "I found a former mage outside Pendlean old hermit." His lips pressed together. "He wouldnt come with us, claimed he was already training students. But he recognized this curse." Eamons head snapped up. "What did he say?" Asil demanded. Bonvil hesitated. His voice lowered. "He called it Soul Devour." The words landed like a hammer. Silence. A long, suffocating silence. And then Abby cursed. Bonvil exhaled sharply. "He told me theres only one way to cure it." Every pair of eyes locked onto him. "You need a root from the Tree of the Uncompromised," he said grimly. "And it only grows in the Shadow Realm." The weight of those words settled over the room like a tombstone. No one moved. Frederick inhaled sharply. The Shadow Realm. The same place Asil and Abby had been turned away from before. Asil felt the decision settle into her bones before she even spoke. "We go," she said. Abby turned to her immediately, nodding in quiet agreement. Eamon tensed. "Not alone," he said. "Im coming with you" "No." Asil met his eyes. "We need you here," she said firmly. Abby stepped forward. "Think about it. Were the only ones with these weird journals, this leveling system. Whatevers inside that place? Its tied to us." Eamon clenched his jaw but nodded. Bonvil and Loren hesitated. But what choice did they have? No expedition. No army. Just two outworlders walking into the abyss. That night, Asil and Abby sat in the dim glow of candlelight, flipping through their journals. A new line of text had appeared, glowing faintly on the parchment. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
New Quest: Obtain the Root.
Asil exhaled. Asil tapped the edge of her journal, gaze unreadable. "It is."
The journey stretched across four grueling days, the road to Fort Warren winding through overgrown trails, abandoned villages, and the occasional smoldering ruinevidence of past skirmishes. The deeper they ventured, the more the land felt forsaken, its silence heavier than it had been near Harjil. Even the wind seemed to carry whispers of something watching, waiting. Small packs of goblins and lone demon stragglers prowled the outskirts, preying on the unprepared. But Asil and Abby were far from unprepared. Their battles became a brutal rhythmencounter, strike, kill, move on. No unnecessary risks. No wasted effort. Asils sword, now imbued with the essence of the alpha goblin core, cleaved through goblins with ruthless precision. Each Crescent Strike left charred gouges in the earth, her new Blade Storm skill searing flame along the blade''s edge, the fire licking at her enemies with a hunger that almost seemed alive. Mirage Waltz left behind lingering illusions, the ghostly echoes of Asil confusing foes long enough for her to cut them down. Abby, ever the shadow between the trees, evolved into something even deadlier. Her movements sharpened, her presence becoming a phantom. Fan of Knives carved through clustered enemies, severing tendons before they could react. Her new abilityPoison Craftingturned simple wild herbs into lethal coatings for her Daggers of Vespa. The daggers, in turn, had awakened some latent magic from their long-forgotten history; with each successful strike, they now carried a slow, insidious rot effect, the wounds they inflicted refusing to heal. Goblins who took a single cut soon staggered, their bodies betraying them, succumbing to a creeping internal decay. By the end of their second night on the road, Asil had climbed from Level 9 to 11, and Abby had surged from Level 8 to 10. Their progress felt intoxicating, but also unnerving. It was too fast. Too convenient. The others, though skilled, were beginning to feel the gap widen. Frederick watched them with silent admiration but growing unease, gripping his sword a little tighter with each battle. Gideon, sharp-eyed and quick with an arrow, never voiced his concerns aloud. Still, Asil noticed how he hesitated before calling a kill shotwaiting, testing, seeing if she and Abby would handle things before he needed to. Ever the scholar, Eamon murmured exponential growth more than once as he scribbled in his journal by firelight. This isnt normal leveling speed. Its almost like the world is But he never finished those thoughts, shaking his head as if dismissing a theory he didnt like. Lucia, bounding between her wolf and dachshund forms as needed, had also grown stronger. The bond between her and Asil had deepened, and with it, her instincts sharpened. She was sensing threats before they fully emerged, a low growl warning of goblins minutes before the first clash of steel. By the third evening, the trees thinned, revealing the final stretch toward Warren. A mile from the fortress gates, Asil called the halt. They camped in a clearing just beyond sight of the looming silhouette of the abandoned fort. The air felt wrong. Not in the way battlefields felt wrongthis was older, deeper. A place that had not known true daylight in years. Lucia, curled in her smaller form at Asils side, whined softly. It had been a long day. But they werent done yet. At dawn, they would make their move.
The following day, the air was cold when Asil woke. She sat up slowly, rolling the stiffness from her shoulders, her palm resting briefly against Lucias warm fur. A glance to her side confirmed Abby was already awake, sharpening her daggers in a rhythmic, almost meditative pattern. The others were stirring. Frederick and Gideon murmured low over the fire, discussing their patrol routes once Asil and Abby left. Eamon sat apart, his journal in his lap, flipping back through the notes on demon curses, Soul Devour, and the Tree of the Uncompromised. Rowan and Hilda, the newest recruits, tightened the straps on their armor, nervous energy written all over their faces. No one said it outright, but the mood was heavy. They all knew what this morning meant. Asil and Abby would go on alone. No backup. No second chances. Eamon tried once more to protest. I should be thereIve been studying demon curses for years. If something goes wrong No. Asil cut him off, not unkindly. We dont know whats inside. We dont know if well even make it back. If we dont, Cressa will still need you here. Eamon swallowed hard, fists clenching at his sides, but he nodded. Frederick reached out, gripping Asils forearm. Come back, he said, voice steady, but his eyes betrayed him. There was real worry there. She gave a half-smile. Thats the plan. Gideon flicked a dagger between his fingers before sheathing it. If youre not back in three days, were coming in after you. Asil didnt argue. She wasnt sure shed want them to. They embraced brieflysilent, wordless. Then, without another backward glance, Asil and Abby set off toward the dark fortress that awaited them. Lucia trotted a few steps forward before stopping, whimpering. She clearly wanted to follow. Asil turned and knelt, running a hand along the soft fur of the small, dachshund-like form. Stay, she whispered, and the word nearly cracked her resolve. Lucias ears flattened, tail tucked, but she obeyed. Then Asil and Abby stepped into the unknown, the pale morning light guiding them forwarduntil it didnt.
Dawn had been stolen. The moment Asil and Abby crossed the invisible threshold into Fort Warrens domain, the world behind them ceased to exist as it should. The warm hues of morning turned cold and lifeless. The skya moment ago breaking into pale goldvanished into endless black, swallowing the horizon. Not night, Asil realized. Night has stars. This is emptiness. Half of Asils body still lingered in the light of the real world, but the rest had crossed into shadow. Her stomach twisted at the unnatural sensation. Abby exhaled sharply, shaking off the creeping unease. I guess we do this now. Without hesitation, she stepped fully into the darkness, her figure swallowed whole by the void. Asil hesitated. A second. Maybe less. Then she followed. What had once been a distant silhouette was now a monstrous presence. The fortresss towers stretched unnaturally, their black stone swallowing what little light remained. The rust-laden gate stood as they had last seen itmassive chains wound tight, the lock thick and unmoving. A chill slithered down Asils spine. She gripped the hilt of her sword and tapped the tip against the ground. The quiet clang echoed too loudly in the still air. No turning back, she murmured, more to herself than Abby. Abby flexed her fingers around the grip of her dagger. Then lets make sure we come back. Asil smirked despite the tension. Thats the plan. They approached the gate, weapons partially drawn, senses sharp for any movement. But the shadows beyond were impenetrable. The woman from their last encounterthe one who had barred them entrywas nowhere in sight. Asil shoved against the iron bars, shaking them hard. Were wasting time. The metal groaned under her weight but didnt budge. Abby pressed her face to a gap between the bars, peering inside. She has to know were here. Maybe The chains rattled. A slow, crawling scrape echoed as the lock twisted and clicked. Asil and Abby stepped back, weapons ready. The iron gate creaked open of its own accord. Thats convenient, Abby muttered. Too convenient, Asil corrected. The courtyard beyond was nothing like they had seen from the outside. Where once there had been an open clearing leading directly to the fortress doors, there was now something else. Something impossible. A sprawling hedge loomed in the center of the yard, stretching impossibly wide, its thick walls extending toward the fortress like an unnatural growth of shadow and thorns. Abby stared. Is that a maze? Before Asil could answer, a soft but unyielding voice slid through the air. The way to the fort is through the maze. They turned sharply. The sorceress stood just within the threshold, wrapped in her swirling robes of darkness. Though she hadnt moved, she also felt distant, as if space warped around her presence. Abby fought to steady her breathing. Who are you? The woman tilted her head slightly, considering. Then, slowly, her gaze fixed on Abby, and something in the air changed. Abby felt it instantly. A weight. A presence. The veil of shadow no longer hid the womans eyesthey gleamed, deep pools of swirling starlight. Abbys chest constricted. Her limbs locked in place. She couldnt move. A whisper in the dark: You seem familiar. The sorceress did not move, yet she was closer. The distance had shifted, twisted. The air itself had bent around her. Asil reacted first, shoving forward and breaking the unseen hold. She grabbed Abby, pulling her back. The moment their skin touched, the paralysis broke. Abby stumbled, gasping for breath. What was that? Asil didnt answer. She had felt it too. Abbys knuckles turned white against the grip of her dagger. Her voice, though still unsteady, sharpened. Enough games. Who are you? The sorceress hesitated, as if considering whether to answer at all. Then, softly, she spoke. I was once called Vee. Something in Abbys chest clenched. She staggered, barely breathing. Vee? she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew that name. Vee regarded her carefully, almost warily, as if testing her reaction. But before Abby could push further, the woman continued in the same quiet, cryptic tone. I have been here for centuries. The weight of those words sent a fresh shudder through Abby. Centuries. That wasnt possible. The name was too close. The way Vee had looked at her was too familiar. But if she had been here for so long, then No. Abby refused to believe it. Asil stepped in, voice firm. What happens if we get through the maze? Vee turned her gaze to Asil now, the brief moment of familiarity with Abby seemingly discarded. Then the way forward will open to you. Or you may leave. Another cryptic half-answer. Abby grit her teeth, fists clenched. Why give us a choice? If this place is so dangerous, why let us in? Vee did not answer. Instead, she raised her hand, palm facing the hedge entrance. A heavy creak reverberated as the hedge yawned open, revealing a narrow, winding path. Abbys heart pounded. Every part of her screamed to demand answersto demand the truth. But something held her back. Maybe fear. Maybe the way Vee was already retreating, sinking back into the folds of shadow. Veronica? Abby dared to voice the question and say the name of the friend she walked into that beta office with, which seemed so long ago. And then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, Vee vanished. Abby took a sharp breath, suddenly lightheaded. The name echoed in her mind, hammering at the walls of her disbelief. Asil reached for her arm, grounding her. Abby? I Abby swallowed hard. I think I knew her. The moment the words left her lipsthe hedge moved. Thorns snapped together like jaws. The entrance to the maze sealed itself shut behind them. Abby jolted back, yanking her hand away just as a cruel thorn sliced her palm. A thin ribbon of blood welled up, trickling down her fingers. Asil grabbed her wrist, already pulling bandages from her pouch. We cant cheat this, she muttered, wrapping the wound. The maze wont let us take shortcuts. Abby didnt argue. She barely noticed the pain. Her mind was still trapped on Vee. On the way the woman had looked at her. She could feel Asil watching her, waiting. Abby swallowed hard. If shes from my world if shes really Veronica She didnt finish. The implications were too big. Asil, instead of pressing, simply rested a hand on Abbys shoulder. Then we find out. A sudden presence at their feet made them jump. Lucia, in her tiny dachshund form, wagged her tail. Abby blinked. Whathow? Lucia gave an unapologetic huff and shifted, growing seamlessly into her full wolf form, her golden eyes sharp and alert. Asil exhaled, running a hand through the wolfs thick fur. Guess were not facing this alone. The tightness in Abbys chest eased just enough to let her breathe again. She gave a weak laugh, burying her face in Lucias fur briefly before pulling away. She met Asils gaze. No more hesitation. No more fear. We have a maze to conquer, she said, rolling her shoulders back. A root to find. And maybe some truth about this Vee. Asil nodded once, drawing her sword. With Lucia at their side, the two women stepped into the labyrinths waiting embrace. Chapter 23: Well… this is awkward. The road to Pendle blurred beneath Jacks feet as he sprinted forward, breath ragged, his staff clutched tight in his grip. Petros was a few strides behind, panting but keeping pace, his satchel bouncing against his side. Saul ran ahead of them, ears pinned back, hackles raisedsilent confirmation that danger still loomed in the village ahead. Jack could feel it too. A crackling in the air, something raw and untamed. Not just the fear of the villagers. Something else. Something waking up. Theyre still here, Jack gasped, pushing himself faster. The thugs. The same bastards who jumped us. Yeah, Petros wheezed, greatmaybe letspaceourselvesso we dontdie before we get there? Jack barely heard him. The rooftops of Pendle came into view beyond the last bend in the road. A plume of dust and scattered debris marked the heart of the town square, where raised voices clashed with the sound of something heavy smashing into stone. Then a roar split the morning air. Not a human one. Jack skidded to a halt just before the final stretch of road, heart hammering. He turned to Petros, who had stopped beside him, wide-eyed. Did that sound like a A bear? Petros finished, gulping. Yeah. A pissed-off one. Jack whipped his head back toward the square. The gang of thugs they had sworn revenge on were already in full retreat. They werent fighting anymore. They were running. And chasing them Jacks brain struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. A towering humanoid bear, thick with muscle, slammed a glowing totem into the cobblestones, sending a wave of energy rippling through the air. The thugs closest to it stumbled, their limbs sluggish and heavy, as if an unseen force had wrapped around them. Then, from the other side of the square, a hammer arced through the air like a falling comet. It struck the ground inches from a fleeing thugs foot, exploding in a pulse of golden light. The thug yelped, diving sideways. Jack barely had time to blink before the wielder of the hammer stepped into view. Henry. The blacksmith. But not the Henry Jack had known before. This Henry burned with power. His once-calloused hands now hummed with residual magic, the veins in his forearms glowing faintly. The hammer in his grasp was unlike anything Jack had seen beforeruned, alive with some kind of forge-born magic. The remaining thugs didnt hesitate. They scattered, fleeing for their lives. Jack and Petros stood frozen at the edge of town, completely unnecessary. They had rushed back to fight, to reclaim their pride, to pay the thugs back for the humiliation they suffered days ago. But the town no longer needed saving. Jacks grip on his staff tightened as reality caught up with him. The people he had accidentally unlockedhe surmised the bear was Raven and Henryhad already stepped up. And judging by the look of things they didnt just get a little stronger. They had become something else entirely. Petros exhaled sharply, nudging Jacks arm. Well this is awkward. Jack smirked, crossing his arms. Huh. So my little experiments already shaking things up. As the dust settled in Pendles town square, the gathered crowd erupted into cheers. Two of the five thugs lay bound in magical vines, their earlier sluggishness from Ravens totem still evident in their drooping eyelids and sluggish movements, the other three long gone. A few townsfolk cautiously stepped forward, testing the edges of the vines, as if unsure whether they were real or some lingering dream. Jack, Petros, and Saul lingered at the edge of the scene, watching as the celebration unfolded. The totem Raven had placed crumbled into motes of fading light, its presence vanishing as its power reached its limit. In the center of it all, Ravennow fully human againbrushed dust from her arms while Henry stood beside her, his hammer still faintly glowing from whatever magic he had channeled into it. You know, Jack murmured, hands on his hips, I was really looking forward to kicking their asses this time. Petros huffed a quiet laugh. Yeah, me too. But they kind of had it handled. Jack exhaled, his gaze drifting between Henry and Raven, watching the easy way they held themselvesrelaxed, confident, powerful. The people he had connected to the Source werent just stepping up to defend Pendle. They were thriving. Jacks grin returned, cocky as ever. Or, and hear me out, I just started the greatest power creep Pendle has ever seen. Petros groaned, shaking his head. Thats not a good thing. Debatable, Jack shot back, still grinning. As the commotion settled and the town resumed its normal pace, Henry finally turned toward the bound thugs, his expression shifting from quiet pride to something more resigned. With a practiced hammer swing, he cut through the magical vines binding their feet, though the rest of the restraints remained intact. Two town guardswho had been laid out earlier by the thugs'' ambushhad finally regained their footing and approached, ready to take them into custody. Meanwhile, Raven and Henry spoke in hushed tones, exchanging observations on their newfound strength. Raven studied Henrys hammer with fascination, tilting her head as she murmured, The way you move with that thing its like its an extension of you. Henry smirked, turning the weapon in his grasp. And you Ive never seen a shaman transformation before. You were holding back last time, werent you? Raven shrugged, an amused glint in her eye. A girls gotta have a few secrets. That was Jack and Petross cue. They strode toward the pair, Saul padding beside them. Jack was about to make some grand entrance, but his thoughts snagged on an odd realizationno one was reacting to the massive wolf at his side. Not a single townsperson looked twice at Saul. No wary glances. No whispers. Just casual, absent-minded acceptance, as if Jacks companion had always been there. Jack blinked. Oh, youve got to be kidding me. Petros frowned. What? Jack gestured vaguely at the town around them. They just completely accepted that I have a giant wolf. No panic, no questions, nothing. And here I was, sneaking him around like some paranoid idiot. Petros smirked. So, what, youre mad that people arent afraid of you? Jack groaned dramatically. No, Im mad I didnt give them enough credit! I couldve had a badass entrance this whole time, and instead, Ive been treating Saul like some illegal pet. Saul flicked an ear, utterly unbothered. Before Petros could poke further fun at Jacks unnecessary theatrics, Henry finally noticed their approach. He glanced between them, brows furrowing in mild surprise. You two look like you had something to say. Jack nodded, all traces of self-pity gone. Yeah. Lets talk. Henry exchanged a glance with Raven, then jerked his head toward his smithy. Fine. This way. The five of themHenry, Raven, Jack, Petros, and Saulmade their way toward Henrys forge. Behind them, the town guards dragged the still-muttering thugs toward the holding cells, their protests falling on deaf ears. Inside Henrys smithy, the warmth of the forge wrapped around them like a heavy cloak. Tools lay scattered across the workbenches, half-finished blades resting in various states of completion. Henry leaned against the table, arms crossed, while Raven perched on a stool near the hearth, stretching like she had all the time in the world. Alright," he said, planting his staff against the floor. "I need to know what happened. You two went from regular townsfolk to that he gestured broadly, indicating the raw power they had displayed"so start talking." Henry and Raven exchanged a glance. Youre acting like we had a choice, Raven said, tipping her head. Like we knew what was happening. She exhaled through her nose, thoughtful. It just started. One morning, I woke up different. Stronger. Like something had shifted inside me. She frowned. I felt this pull toward the wild. Like I could hear the land, sense things I never could before. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Henry grunted. For me, it was the forge. I picked up my hammer, and suddenlyI knew I could push magic into the metal. Didnt read it, didnt learn it. It was just there. He paused, his gaze locking onto Jack. And those runes you carved? I saw you do it once. Next thing I knew, I could do it too. Jack blinked. You learned magic just from watching me? Henry nodded, jaw tight. Ive been practicing. At first, the magic wouldnt hold. Then I figured out how to bind it properly. Now my weapons keep the enchantments. He tapped a half-forged sword resting on his worktable. Every time I forge, I feel it more. Petros tilted his head. So you both got stronger in different ways? Raven nodded. I wanted answers. Tested myself in the woodsgoblins, mostly. Used to be, Id have lasted a few minutes at best. Instead, I thrived. The more I fought, the sharper it got. Then the totems started coming. She gestured vaguely to where hers had dissolved earlier. Set one down, and its like the earth listens. The energy builds, then releases when I need it. Henry exhaled. Feels like the world itself is waking up. Not just useverything. Jack and Petros exchanged glances. That last statement sent a chill down Jacks spine. Jack hesitated before asking, "And this started when? The moment you felt the change?" Henry thought for a moment, then nodded. "About a week ago." Raven pursed her lips. "Yeah. Right after you two left town." Jacks grip on his staff tightened. Right after he had connected them to the Source. After a brief lull in the conversation, Petros spoke first, shifting his weight as he considered his words carefully. Its strange, though. You two awakened about a week ago? Raven nodded slowly. Yeah. Right after you left. Jack and Petros exchanged glances. Well, Jack said, keeping his tone casual, we also woke up different. About a week before you did. He leaned against the workbench, his staff balanced effortlessly in his grip. The past week, we spent that time hunting goblins in the forests north of Pendle. Training. Getting stronger. Henry frowned, rubbing his chin. So youre saying this just happened to all of us, one after the other? Raven crossed her arms, suspicion flickering across her face. Thats a hell of a coincidence. Petros shrugged. Maybe. But considering what weve seen in this world, maybe not. He gave Raven a meaningful look. You ever hear of something like this happening before? People suddenly changing like this? Raven hesitated. No, she admitted. At least, not in Pendle. Magics been dead here for centuries. Then suddenly, were out here throwing around enchanted weapons and totems? Henry let out a slow breath. Feels like the worlds waking up. Not just useverything. Jack ran a hand through his hair, keeping his expression neutral. Well, either way, its happening. And now that were all getting stronger, we need to figure out what to do next. Raven narrowed her eyes slightly, but Jack met her gaze with a casual grin, as if none of this concerned him in the slightest. Guess were not the only ones grinding levels, he said, flashing a cocky smirk. Good to know were not alone in this. Henry leaned back against his workbench, arms crossed over his broad chest, while Raven absentmindedly twirled a loose thread from her sleeve. Jack and Petros had just finished outlining their planheading toward the Shadow Realm, pushing their limits, and seeing how far their newfound powers could take them. Raven frowned. Youre really leaving Pendle again? Jack shrugged. We need to get stronger. Theres a whole world out there, and sitting around isnt going to help us level up. Henry exhaled through his nose. Well stay. Jack arched an eyebrow. You sure? Henry nodded. That gangs not done with us. Not by a long shot. I dont know how many they have, but I know how men like them think. Theyll lick their wounds, find reinforcements, and return worse than before. Raven folded her arms, gaze distant. Someone must ensure Pendle isnt caught off guard next time. Petros adjusted his pouch strap. Youll need to get stronger too, then. Obviously, Raven deadpanned. Were not just going to sit around waiting. Well train while youre off gallivanting in the Shadow Realm. Plenty of goblins south of Pendle. Well start there. Henry ran a hand through his thick beard. Its strange, though. We barely saw goblins for decadesstories, maybe. The occasional traveler claimed they ran into one deep in the woods, but that was it. Now? Theyre everywhere. Petros glanced at Jack, then back at Henry. What do you think changed? Henry tapped the pommel of his hammer against the wooden bench, brows furrowed. Hard to say. But if magics waking up again, maybe its waking everything up. If goblins were part of the Demon Gods army, maybe theyre rallying again. Raven muttered a curse under her breath. Great. Just what we needPendle caught between a bandit gang and an army of goblins. Jack forced a chuckle. Dont worry. Well check in when we can. You can count on us if the gang returns with more numbers than you can handle. Raven gave him a pointed look. You better. Henry smirked. And while were clearing out goblins, well watch for any signs of where those bastards are hiding. They had to come from somewhere. The deal was set. They would each carve their own paths, but with the unspoken promise that if things got bad, theyd regroup. Saul let out a small huff, and Ravens expression softened. She crouched down, running a hand through his fur before pulling him into a brief hug. She whispered something into the wolfs ear. He flicked his tail and gave her a slow blink, as if understanding. Then she stood and wiped her hands on her tunic. Jack tilted his head. Whatd you say? Raven smirked. Thats between me and Saul. Jack snorted but let it slide. He turned back to Henry and extended a hand. See you around, big guy. Henry gripped Jacks forearm, a firm shake between them. Stay alive out there. Petros waved at Raven, who leaned in without warning and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. The boy froze, his face heating instantly. Before she could see him turn bright red, he muttered a hasty farewell and all but fled toward Jack, leaving Raven smirking behind him. With that, Jack, Petros, and Saul made their way out of the smithy, stepping back into the bright morning air. Their path led northtoward the Shadow Realm and whatever lay beyond. Behind them, Henry and Raven stood in the doorway, watching them go. The moment they disappeared into the street, Henry grunted. You think theyll be okay? Raven stretched her arms above her head, cracking her knuckles. No idea. But if they cant handle themselves, theyll be back soon enough. Henry chuckled. Fair point. Lets go hunt some goblins. Raven grinned. Now that is something I can get behind. With that, the two turned south, heading toward the forests where trouble was already waiting.
The journey north was quiettoo quiet. Jack and Petros had spent the past week eradicating the goblin camps in this region, and now the woods seemed eerily empty. No patrols. No scattered scouts. Just the rustling wind through leafless branches and the occasional snap of twigs beneath their boots. Jack didnt like it. It felt like the world was holding its breath. Sauls ears twitched first. Jack barely had time to register the shift before a low chorus of growls rippled through the underbrush. Another wolf pack. Petros tensed, but Jack raised a hand, silently signaling him to stay put. Saul stepped forward, hackles raised, not in aggression, but in dominance. The pack hesitated at the tree line, their golden eyes reflecting the dimming daylight. Then, one by one, the wolves bowedforelimbs stretched forward, tails low in submission. Their leader, a massive gray-furred alpha, rolled onto his back, exposing his stomach in reverence. Jack exhaled, shoulders easing. Looks like Sauls been spreading the word, he murmured, scratching his wolf behind the ears. Petros let out a nervous chuckle. Youre not just a magic user, Jack. Youre a damn folk tale waiting to happen. Ignoring the comment, Jack pressed forward, eyes locking onto the massive oak ahead. The tree stood as he rememberedtowering, leafless, its gnarled branches stretching toward the sky like skeletal fingers. Yet, despite its winter-bare appearance, it didnt seem dead. If anything, the thick, twisting bark pulsed with something ancient, something waiting. They circled the tree cautiously, boots crunching over frost-laced grass. The air was heavier here. Not in a way that chokedmore like stepping into a place where time forgot to keep up. Then Petros halted, his gaze locked on the base of the tree. Jack he breathed, pointing. At first, Jack didnt see it. Just another tangle of roots and bark. But as he stepped closer, the shape became clearan iron door embedded in the trunk. The tree hadnt grown around it. No, this door belonged here. Petros ran his fingers along the surface. How is this even possible? Its fused with the bark, but it has hingesold ones. Jacks fingers brushed the metal, testing its resistance. Cold and unmoving. He frowned and yanked harder. The door didnt budge. Then a thought struck him. Closing his eyes, he let his mana flow into his palm. The iron hummed beneath his touch, warmth threading through the hidden veins of magic within the metal. A low, pulsing glow spread outward. Faint, dust-covered runes surfaced along the edges of the door, their shapes twisting and rearranging as if waking from centuries of sleep. With a soft click, the door swung open. Jack and Petros exchanged a glance. Neither spoke, but the message was clear: No turning back. Jack stepped through first. Darkness swallowed them instantly. For a moment, Jack swore they were still outsidethe shift was so seamless. But as Sauls paws padded in behind him, a distant torch sputtered to life, its light chasing away the void. They werent in a tree. The corridor stretched endlessly ahead, lined on both sides with identical iron doors, just like the one theyd stepped through. The walls werent woodthey were stone, cold and ancient, bearing faint carvings of symbols Jack didnt recognize. A deep, foreboding silence settled over them, thick as a graveyard fog. Petros turned, glancing back the way they came. Jack The door slammed shut. The sound rang like a hammer against an anvil, the echo stretching impossibly long through the corridor. Jacks stomach clenched as he whirled, already reaching for the handle. It turned easily. But on the other side The rolling hills and the towering oak were gone. Instead, stone walls loomeda dead-end room within this fortress, dust swirling in the dim torchlight. Jacks pulse pounded. No. He yanked the door open wider, expectinghopingthe wrong image would flicker away, that the world outside would return. But it was real. They were trapped. Then something shoved back. The door exploded outward, slamming into Jack with enough force to throw him off his feet. Instinct kicked inhe braced with a pulse of mana, cushioning his landing just before hitting the wall. Even still, the impact sent a sharp jolt through his bones. Saul growleda deep, primal warning. Jack pushed himself up, eyes snapping to Petros. The boy was trembling, his hands clutching the journal at his side, eyes locked on the threshold. Jack turned. A silhouette stood just beyond the ruined doorframe, hulking, its shape wrongas if something massive had been stuffed into a space too small for it. Shadow and sinew twisted unnaturally, long arms dragging against the stone floor. A choked sound caught in Petross throat. Sauls fur bristled, tail stiff, half-growling, half-whininglike even he couldnt decide whether to fight or flee. Then, in the space between heartbeats, a journal page flashed behind Jacks eyes.
Greater Demogorgon C Level 13.
The torchlight flickered. The creature lunged. Chapter 24: Tree of the Uncompromised The stone pathways of the hedge maze stretched before them, thick walls of interwoven brambles and darkened leaves towering on either side. A faint mist clung to the ground, curling around their boots as Asil and Abby pressed forward, following the only rule of labyrinth navigation Asil knewstick to the left wall. Their boots crunched against packed dirt as they walked silently, their breaths steady but their nerves taut. Lucia padded ahead in her wolf form, ears flicking at unseen sounds within the walls of foliage. The first twenty minutes passed uneventfully. At first, they moved cautiously, half-expecting something to lunge at them from the dark corners. But when nothing came, urgency took over, and they picked up the pace. Every second wasted was another second Cressa slipped closer to death. Asil wiped sweat from her brow, exhaling through her nose. Something was off. Too quiet. Too still. A creeping sense of unease itched at the back of her mind, a feeling that the maze was watching them. Were making progress, right? Abby asked, keeping her voice low. Maybe, Asil admitted. But I dont like this. Its Lucia suddenly stopped, muscles tensing. A low growl rumbled from her throat. Something moved ahead. The shadows flickered unnaturally before three hulking figures stepped into view, their elongated limbs curling with dark energy. Each one twisted and unnaturalcharcoal-black skin rippling like smoke over sinew, jagged spines protruding from their backs. Their eyes burned like embers in the gloom, their lips peeling into hungry grins.
Lesser Demons (Level 12) x3
Abby tensed, gripping her daggers. Weve got company. Asil unsheathed Lorens Gift, her enhanced blade humming faintly with power. Good. I was starting to get bored. The demons lunged. One of the demons launched forward, its clawed hand raking toward Asils chest. She sidestepped, activating Phantom Step to blink just out of reach, reappearing at its side with a whirling slash. Blade Storm ignited, her sword wreathed in flickering flame as she spun, slicing through the demons exposed flank. It screeched, black ichor spilling onto the dirt but remained standing. The second demon went for Abby, its grotesque mouth splitting open with a snarling hiss. She disappeared into Shadow Meld, slipping behind it before it could react. The moment its clawed hand slashed at empty air, Abby reappeared behind its back, jamming one of her poisoned daggers into its spine. Rotfangs venom spread instantly, dark veins creeping along its body as it staggered, its movements sluggish. Lucia snarled, Growl echoing through the maze, forcing the third demons attention onto her. She darted between its swipes, luring it into position while Asil dashed in, her sword glowing with the energy of Crescent Strike. One powerful arc of her blade severed the demons arm at the shoulder, sending it sprawling back with an inhuman howl. The first demon recovered, lunging againthis time faster. Asil barely managed to raise her sword when black tendrils shot from its hands, wrapping around her forearm, sapping her stamina.
Status Effect: Wither C Stamina Drain Active
Asil gritted her teeth, feeling her energy bleed away. But before the demon could capitalize on its advantage, a volley of daggers buried themselves into its chestFan of Knives. Abby dashed in, her footwork fluid, and with Backstab, she drove both blades into the creatures heart. It let out a final hissing gurgle before collapsing into the dirt, body dissolving into thick black smoke. Lucia and Asil worked together to finish off the last demon, the wolf snapping at its legs while Asils Mirage Waltz left an afterimage that confused its swipes. With one final Blade Storm, Asil tore through its torso, reducing it to smoldering embers. The battlefield fell silent, save for the sound of Asil and Abby catching their breath. Asil wiped her blade clean, glancing down at the blackened remains of the demons. That was satisfying. Abby knelt beside one of the bodies, retrieving a glowing demon core from the ashes. Yeah, but where the hell were they even standing? Lucia let out a whimper, ears flat. Asil frowned, scanning the path ahead. Behind where the demons had been was nothing but a solid dead-enda towering wall of unmoving hedges. What the Abby turned, only to freeze. The path theyd just come fromthe one they knew they had walked throughwas also gone. A new passage stretched before them instead, splitting into two directions: left and right. Abbys grip on her daggers tightened. Tell me Im not losing it. Youre not, Asil murmured. Her worst suspicion had just been confirmed. The maze was shifting. And it had just rewritten their path. The moment Asil turned down the next leftward path, she felt the first prickling sensation of unease. Abby noticed it toothe way the hedge walls seemed impossibly tall now, the oppressive silence stretching between each footstep. They had already backtracked multiple times, and the maze shifted each time without a single sound or tremor. It was toying with them. But there was no other option. They continued forward, another left, then anotheruntil, once again, a dead end. Asil exhaled sharply through her nose, jaw tightening. When she turned back, the corridor behind themwhere they had just come fromwas gone. A solid wall of twisting brambles blocked their path, thick and impassable. "We''re trapped," Abby muttered, daggers clenched tight. "This isn''t just shifting corridors anymore. It''s locking us in." A growl of frustration rumbled in Asils chest. Without thinking, she raised her sword and swung at the wall, hoping to carve out a way through. The moment her blade bit into the hedge, something snapped forward. A thick, living branch whipped out, coiling around her sword with unnatural speed. "What the?!" The branch twisted sharply, yanking the weapon from Asils grip. Her blade clattered to the dirt, just out of reach. Then, from within the hedge itself, a shape began to form. Nothree shapes. They pulled themselves free from the brambles, their bodies made entirely of tangled vines and thorned branches. Humanoid in form, but grotesquely elongated, with clawed fingers that dripped sap like blood. Hollow slits where eyes should be turned toward the intruders. A pulse of magic flickered through the air, and both Asil and Abbys journals flared with a new notification:
Dryad (Level 13) x3
The creatures wasted no time. Lucia leapt in front of Asil with a vicious snarl, her hackles raised as she lunged at the nearest Dryad. The creature didnt flinch, instead raking a thorn-covered claw across Lucias side. The wolf yelped but didnt falter, activating Hide in an instant, causing her body to blur into a spectral shimmer. Even invisible, the Dryads didn''t hesitatethey struck wildly at the air where Lucia had been, their claws slicing through nothingness but coming dangerously close. She had bought Asil and Abby precious seconds, but it wouldnt last. "Go!" Abby hissed. Asil needed no further encouragement. She tucked and rolled between the Dryads, her breath catching as the thorns scraped her arm but didnt pierce through her armor. Her fingers closed around her fallen sword as Abby vanished into the darkness. A second later, the familiar shhink of Backstab rang out. Abby materialized behind one of the Dryads, sinking her dagger deep into what should have been its back. The creature jerkedbut instead of a fatal wound, more vines erupted from the gash, sealing it instantly. "Thats not fair," Abby growled. Asil slashed at the closest Dryad, hoping fire damage from her upgraded Blade Storm would do more. The swords flames bit into the creatures bark-like skin, charring a portion of its armbut just like before, the injury regenerated, more brambles twisting to replace what was lost. The Dryads didnt go on the defensive. They attacked relentlessly, their thorned limbs slicing through the air with terrifying precision. Both Asil and Abby barely dodged in time, rolling away to avoid the razor-sharp strikes. "Were not doing anything to them!" Asil gritted out, ducking under another swipe. Abbys eyes darted to the Dryads'' feet. Theyre rooted. With every movement, each Dryads steps dug into the ground, tendrils extending from their heels to fuse with the maze itself. Each time one of them moved, they left behind fresh roots. That was the key. "Asil, the roots!" Abby shouted, flipping one of her daggers in her grip. "We dont attack the bodywe hit the feet!" Abby activated her Poisoned Blades, coating her weapons in a toxic sheen before lunging forward. She swept low, slicing through the roots of the nearest Dryad as it attempted to step forward. The poison seeped into the tendrils, and for the first time, the creature reactedits body convulsed, the vines at its core writhing in distress. "Its working!" Asil followed suit, channeling Blade Storm, igniting her sword in a blaze of fire before hacking through the roots of the second Dryad. Unlike their bodies, the roots didnt regeneratethe fire seared them black, the poison preventing regrowth. Lucia reappeared from her spectral hiding, bloodied but determined. She lunged at the final Dryad, biting deep into its foot before yanking backward with all her strength. The Dryad staggered, its connection to the maze momentarily severed. Asil and Abby didnt waste the opportunity. Flames and poison worked in tandem, severing the Dryads ability to regenerate. One by one, they collapsed, their bodies stiffening before crumbling into piles of lifeless brambles. The moment the last one fell, the walls of the maze shiftedthis time not silently, but with a deep, groaning creak of wood. Where the Dryads had stood, an opening formed, a new path stretching forward. Asil wiped the sweat from her brow, chest heaving. "I hate this place." Abby exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders. "Right there with you." Lucia, panting, trotted up beside them, nudging Abbys leg. The teenager bent down, brushing her hands through the wolfs fur. "Good girl," she whispered. Lucias tail wagged weakly in response. They exchanged one last look before stepping forward into the newly opened passage, the oppressive silence of the maze swallowing them once more. They had won this battlebut the maze was far from finished with them. A chime of triumph echoed in their minds. Asil wiped the sweat from her brow, chest still rising and falling from the intensity of the last battle. Their journals flickered with level-up notificationsAsil, Level 13. Abby, Level 12. Lucia, Level 10. The steady grind through the maze had not only strengthened them but rewarded them in turn. Abby rummaged through their spoils, tallying up the growing stash. Silver and copper coins jingled softly as she deposited them into her pouch of holding. Among the loot, she examined a pair of Thorn Daggerswicked, curved blades made from entwined brambles, their edges glistening with residual poison. Higher level than her Daggers of Vespa, but she frowned. A single test swing told her everything she needed to knowthe weight was off, the balance awkward. "Not bad," she muttered, tucking them away. "But Vespas still my go-to." Meanwhile, Asil inspected a handful of healing sap vials, thick golden liquid sloshing inside delicate glass containers. Without hesitation, she kneeled beside Lucia, who panted softly, her fur still damp from the last scuffle. Asil uncorked one of the vials and applied the salve to the worst of Lucias gashes. Almost immediately, the wolf let out a low sigh of relief as the magic-infused sap did its work. The remaining vials were safely storedno telling what was still ahead. They pressed on, deeper into the maze. The path twisted and turned in unpredictable ways, the unnatural silence pressing against their ears. But the hedges were no longer passive. Asils sword cleaved through another Dryad, severing its clawed hand mid-swing. The creature let out a groaning, unnatural wail as it withered, its wooden frame crumbling into lifeless bark. Abby danced around a demon, her poisoned blades striking vital points before she melted into the shadows, appearing behind another. Lucia, emboldened by her recent level-up, activated Wolf Hide, lunging at a dryads throat, her spectral aura making her nearly untouchable. One battle bled into another. A trio of lesser demons emerged from a shifting passage, their snarling voices clawing at the air as they lunged forward. Asil met their charge head-on, activating Blade Stormher sword ignited in a torrent of fire, cutting through the first demons defenses like butter. Abby used Fan of Knives, the sharp steel finding home in the second demons joints, slowing its advance. The third, larger than the others, roared and swiped at Lucia, but the wolf expertly dodged, using Growl to pull its attention while Asil finished it with a downward Crescent Strike. More dryads. More demons. There was no time to dwell. Each corridor brought fresh horrorseach twist another deadly encounter. The maze was designed to wear them down, its ever-shifting paths trapping them in an endless cycle of combat. By the time they reached another fork, their limbs ached from exhaustion. Abbys breath was ragged, her shadow energy dangerously low. Even Asil, who had honed her endurance, felt the weight of the battles pressing on her. Thats when the true test arrived. The corridor widened, revealing three demonshulking, spined creatures with elongated clawsand opposite them, three dryads, their thorn-covered bodies shifting ominously. Six enemies. One confined battlefield. The demons struck first, lunging forward in unison. Asil met the closest with a defiant parry, her Crescent Strike countering the brutes momentum. Sparks flew as their blades clashed. Abby flickered into the fray, Backstab piercing deep into another demons ribcage. It howled in fury but didnt fallnot yet. The dryads werent idle spectators. They moved in unnatural synchronization, weaving through the chaos, their clawed fingers lashing out at exposed weaknesses. One swiped at Abby, forcing her to disengage, while another lashed at Lucia, who barely dodged in time. Lucias snarl deepened. With a surge of instinct, she activated Wolf Hide, her spectral glow intensifying as she slammed into a dryads chest, sending it sprawling. Asil turned up the heat. Blade Storm ignited her sword in a vortex of fire, each swing carving through both demons and dryads alike. The blaze caught on the dryads wooden limbs, fire crackling as they flailed in agony. Abby took advantage. While the creatures reeled, she circled behind them, dipping into the shadows before launching into a Fan of Knives, the poisoned daggers striking home. Lucia finished the last demon with a precise bite to its throat, ripping out the essence of its dark life force. Finallysilence. The three women stood in the aftermath, bloodied and panting, surrounded by the remains of their fallen foes. Their journals hummed with fresh notifications, but neither of them had the energy to check. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. They had won. But at what cost? Asil wiped soot and demon ichor from her cheek, shaking the fatigue from her limbs. She barely noticed the fire still clinging to her sword, the heat radiating through the confined space. Abby, equally drained, stepped toward a dead-end wall, trying to gauge their next path. Asil turnedand instinct kicked in. "Abby, stop!" she barked, instinctively raising her blade. The flames danced across the steel as she pointed it toward Abbys position. At first, nothing happened. Then, as Abbys shadow stretched across the hedge wall, something shifted. The dead end dissolved, parting where her shadow had faded. A narrow path appeared beyond it, leading deeper into the maze. Abby turned to Asil, stunned. "Did we just?" Asil frowned, lowering her sword slightly. "That wasnt a coincidence." They tested it again at the next dead end. Abby moved, her shadow touching the hedge. Asil raised her fiery bladeonce more, the maze shifted, granting them passage. It wasnt perfect. Some paths remained sealed no matter what they tried. Others only reacted when both fire and shadow worked in tandem. But a pattern emerged. The maze wasnt shifting against them anymore. They were controlling it. With cautious excitement, they moved through the corridors, carefully triggering the hidden passages. A sense of momentum built as they carved their way forward, dodging more enemies and outmaneuvering the mazes twisted logic. Thensuddenlythe hedge walls parted, revealing an open clearing. Asil stepped forward, heart pounding. "We made it." The corridor behind them sealed shut. For the first time, they found themselves in a space not confined by winding passages. A single object sat in the middle of the clearinga magnificent chest, adorned with intricate carvings and brimming with an aura of power. Abby exhaled, shaking off the last remnants of exhaustion. "This has to be it. The center of the maze." Lucia sniffed the air cautiously, ears flicking back. Asils grip tightened on her sword, but something inside her already knewthis was what they came for. Without hesitation, she strode forward, placing both hands on the chests lid. The weight of their journey pressed on her, but she had no doubt in her heart. She lifted it. The chest was empty. The silence stretched as Asil stared at the empty chest, her hands trembling against the cool metal. She had knownknownthat the center of the maze would hold their prize. She had felt it in her gut. And yet nothing. Adrenaline bled away, leaving only exhaustion and something worserage. She refused to cry. Asil fell to her knees, biting back a growl, her fingers curling into fists against the grass. Her pulse thundered in her ears, and with every slow breath, her fury threatened to boil over. Beside her, Abby slumped down, letting out a quiet, broken sound. Not quite a sob, but close. The younger girl leaned back against the chest, eyes wet and distant. Lucia padded to her side, pressing her warm body against Abbys leg. Without thinking, the teen scratched behind the wolfs ears, her fingers absentmindedly working through the soft fur. A moment later, Lucia shimmered, shrinking into her dachshund form, curling against Abbys side with a low whine. Asil clenched her jaw. Seeing Abby so vulnerable made her fury sharpen into something ugly. They had fought through demons, dryads, twisting corridorsendured everything the maze had thrown at them. Cressas life depended on them finding that root. And now, at the end of it all, after leveling up, pushing through every impossible fight Nothing. Asil pulled out food and drink from her pouch of holding, the perfectly preserved contents fresh as if they had just been made. She set the items down roughly, forcing herself to focus on the practical. Eat. Recover. Think. She shoved a sandwich into Abbys hands before taking one for herself. Even Lucia got a small bowl of cooling stew, which the little dog lapped at eagerly, her tail flicking despite the tension in the air. The food settled their stomachs, eased some of the ache in their muscles. Even their passive healing kicked in, their stamina replenishing faster. But it did nothing for the storm inside Asils chest. She stood abruptly, pacing around the chest, her sword arm twitching with restless energy. Abby wiped her face and sat forward, no longer crying but still visibly drained. Lucia, watched her with big, worried eyes. Asils golden gaze swept the enclosed clearing. No openings. No way forward. They had tested their fire-and-shadow trick earliernothing. Whatever magic had let them control the shifting walls was now useless. The maze brought us here for a reason. Theres no way this was all for nothing. Her teeth ground together. "What are we missing?" she muttered, voice tight. Abby scanned the area, her expression blank with fatigue. Asil could feel her trying to stay hopeful, but what if there was no answer? What if the maze had just beenwrong? The thought snapped something inside her. Her frustration exploded. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US?!" Her shout rang out, bouncing off the hedge walls, bleeding into silence. Thena rustling sound. Not from the hedges. Slow. Unnatural. Like something shifting against itself. Abbys head snapped up. "Asil" A tree stood several feet awaya tiny sapling, no more than two feet tall. Asils brow furrowed. Had that been there before? The sapling trembled again, though there was no breeze. The air was dead still. A shiver crawled down her spine. She took a cautious step forward the tree grew. Not over time. Not gradually. It was just suddenly tallernow as high as her shoulders. Asil froze. Another heartbeat passed. The tree grew againnow twice her height, stretching unnaturally in the still air. Asil stepped back this time, hand instinctively going to the hilt of her sword. Abby and Lucia shifted, sensing it too. The air itself felt wrong, heavy with some unseen pressure. Thenthe tree moved. Not just grewmoved. The bark twisted, limbs unraveling, bending into something vaguely humanoid. It stretched, branches snapping into place as if awakening from a long slumber. By the time it reached two stories tall, there was no doubt. It was not a tree. It was watching them. Asils grip tightened on her sword as she slowly, carefully, drew it from its sheath. The moment the blade left its scabbard, the saplings transformation finished A monstrous Dryad towered above them, its massive frame woven from blackened vines and bark, thorns gleaming like polished obsidian. A notification flashed across their journals
Tree of the Uncompromised, Alpha Dryad, Level 15.
Lucia snarled, instinctively shifting back to wolf form. Abby exhaled, her daggers glinting as she stepped into a battle stance. Asil lifted her sword, fire already igniting along the blade. The real challenge had just begun. The center of the hedge maze had seemed a tranquil clearing at first glance. Low hedges and a single, gnarled treeThe Tree of the Uncompromisedrose from the earth like a harmless relic of older times. But as soon as Asil and Abby approached, the bark split with a thunderous groan, limbs twisting upward until the trunk reached twice its original height. Through jagged cracks, a dull glow sparked in what passed for eyes. Roots writhed along the ground like serpents, tearing free from the dirt. This is no mere tree, Asil murmured, stepping back to give herself fighting space. The flames along her sword crackled, fierce but oddly stifled in the suffocating night. Its alive. She felt the cold sweat across her brow. Even her Blade Storm might not be enough here. Lucia growled low, a thunderous rumble in her chest, ears pinned against her skull. She bared her fangs, ready to pounce. Abby spun her daggers with a nervous flick, trying to keep her voice steady. This was, like, a normal tree five seconds ago. Now its a freaking boss monster. Why am I not surprised? The monstrous dryad lurched forward. It didnt move like a living being; it jerked, limbs stretching far too fast, carrying it across the clearing in a single shuddering motion. Asil met the charge head-on, forging a blazing Crescent Strike that arced across the dryads torso. Fire bit into the bark, leaving a scorched line in its wake. For an instant, the dryad reeled. Then the wound sealed itself, vines knitting together seamlessly. Aw, come on! Asil snarled in frustration. She rolled to the side as a vine whipped down, shattering the earth where shed stood. Nothings ever easy in this realm! Lucia lunged at the beasts legs, jaws clamping on thick, twisted bark. A sickening crack rang out, and the dryad shriekeda hollow, echoing sound that set Abbys teeth on edge. Abby took the opening to flicker into Shadow Meld, vanishing for a heartbeat before reappearing behind the creatures spine. She stabbed both Daggers of Vespa deep But the blow had no effect. The wood simply re-formed, almost welcoming the blades into its trunk. Abbys eyes went wide as vines lashed out and seized her wrists, yanking her into the air. Asil! she managed, before the dryad flung her across the clearing. She crashed into the hedge wall, pain exploding across her back. Asil turned at once, alarm spiking in her chest. Abby! she shouted. Imfine, Abby groaned, staggering up. That sucked, though. The dryad moved again, a horrifying jerk that sent three thorned branches slashing at Asil simultaneously. She twisted away, tapping Phantom Step to blink ten feet just before a jagged spear of wood sank into the earth at her feet. It doesnt go down, Abby muttered through gritted teeth, already darting to another flank. Whats the trick? Theres gotta be a trick. Attacking the roots as they did with the weaker dryads did not work, for they reformed faster than they could destroy them. Lucia snarled, bounding beneath a swinging limb. But the battle dragged on, each new wound healing in an instant, every severed piece growing back more gnarled. Try as they might, the trio couldnt force it to yield. Exhaustion etched into Asils shoulders. Her stamina and conjured flames were dwindling, and Abbys illusions barely bought them seconds of reprieve. Finally, the dryad retaliated with brutal speed. A thorned branch hammered into Lucias rib cage, flinging her sideways in a yelp of agony. She landed in a heap, unmoving. Lucia! Asils heart seized. Distracted, she failed to notice a thick limb arcing for her own chest. It slammed into her, lifting her bodily into the air. She had barely a moment to register the impact before she crashed to the ground, sword skittering away. A wave of darkness pressed in around her senses. Abbys scream caught in her throat. She was alone now. Her mind raced, fury and terror mixing in a dizzy swirl. The dryad lurched forward once more, ancient bark knitting up every scratch. Drips of greenish sap spattered where Lucia had clawed it, but it was already sealing shut. The air reeked of decay and twisted magic. Abby panted, arms shaking from the relentless onslaught. Her daggers had been knocked from her handsone lying just out of reach. Her shoulder bled freely from a jagged branch that had ripped through her flesh. She was on the verge of collapse, but she refused to give in. Remembering the initial dryad trio they defeated, she dug the pair of thorn daggers shed looted from that encounter, untested until now. A wild thought surged in her mind: Poison. She had some leftover Rotfang Venom, a slow-acting but potent toxin. The dryad sensed her weakness and advanced. She could feel the ominous hush as it prepared another lethal strike. Summoning her last reserves of adrenaline, Abby coated the thorn daggers in venom. She bit back a cry from the pain in her shoulder, forcing her body to move. In a desperate roll, she evaded the dryads downward smash. As she slid beneath its rootlike trunk, she slashed upward with both venom-laced daggers. A blackish corruption spread across the bark, sizzling through even the creatures unnaturally fast healing. The monster screeched in genuine pain for the first time, stumbling back. Abbys vision blurred with exhaustion, but she pressed every advantage, hacking again at the main roots. Where the daggers struck, the wood blackened and shriveled. The dryad shrieked louder, an otherworldly cry of pure agony. Its body lurched, vines recoiling from the rot. She could barely stand, her legs trembling, her lungs burning for air. At last, the towering creature reeled, limbs fusing into a final spear, determined to deliver a deathblow. Abbys arms felt like lead. She had no more illusions left, no stealth. Her entire body wobbled as she tried to lift her weapon for one last strike. The dryad lunged And disintegrated in a rush of rotting bark and foul-smelling ash. Abby stumbled, half-laughing, half-crying. She didnt need her journal to confirm the kill. The monstrous hush of the clearing told her theyd wonbarely. She dropped the thorn daggers and crawled toward Asil, heart pounding in her ears. Asil lay in a heap, unbreathing. Abby forced a bit of healing sap from her pack between Asils lips, praying for a reaction. The world spun in a nauseating swirl of black and red. For a painful moment, nothing happened. Then, a strangled coughAsil inhaled sharply, eyelids fluttering open. Abby stifled a sob. Oh gods Asil She turned next to Lucia. The wolf lay frighteningly still, ribs cracked. Abby did the same with the sap, pressing it into Lucias muzzle, coaxing her to swallow. Seconds ticked by with no sign of revival. No, no, no Abby repeated, voice cracking. She sank over Lucias body, tears spilling, fear hollowing her out. Then she felt a faint stir against her cheek. Lucias paw twitched. With a shuddering sigh, the wolfs eyes opened, a weak little whine escaping her throat. Her form shimmered into a dachshunds silhouette, the small shape trembling but miraculously alive, shifting forms almost healed the small beast instantaneously, but left Lucia incredibly weak. Abby pulled the dog into her arms, relief overwhelming every sense. Asil propped herself up groggily, her chest still tight with pain. She reached out to steady Abbys shoulder. Took you long enough, Asil croaked, attempting a shaky smile. Abby couldnt speak, tears mixing with laughter as she hugged Lucia close. Across the clearing, the final remnants of the dryads body fell in pieces, dissolving into damp earth. Abbys journal buzzed with new notificationsQuest Update, Level Gainsbut she ignored them for now. They had survived, if only barely. And though battered, they had the key item: the root that lay half-buried among the ashen remains. Reclaiming it meant saving Cressas life. Yet as they caught their breath, gloom still hung around them. Asil sat up slowly, her body still aching from the battle. She reached into her pouch of holding and pulled out a set of water casks, tossing one to Abby before drinking deeply from her own. The cool liquid soothed her burning throat, washing away the taste of blood and exhaustion. Lucia, still in dachshund form, let out a small whine. Asil tipped her cask, letting a trickle of water spill onto her outstretched palm. The pup lapped it up greedily, tail wagging weakly. Then, without warning The maze collapsed. The towering hedges that had ensnared them for hours crumbled into nothing, vines withering away as if they had never existed. A gust of wind stirred the dust where the once-imposing labyrinth had stood. Asil, Abby, and Lucia now found themselves in a quiet, open courtyard. Beyond them, Fort Warrens main gates stood wide open. Abby, still catching her breath, looked around in disbelief. The distance was impossibly shortas if the entire maze had folded in on itself, condensing into the space of a simple courtyard. Abbys gaze dropped to the earth. The only trace of the Tree of the Uncompromised was a single, twisted root, protruding from the dirt. She exhaled sharply and crouched down, wrapping her fingers around the gnarled thing. A simple notification blinked in her journal.
Root from the Tree of the Uncompromised
That was it. No flourish, no fanfare. Just a handful of words. She clenched her jaw and shoved the root into her pouch before turning to find Asil. Her friend was standing at the entrance of the fort. Still. Silent. Staring. "Asil?" Abby called. No response. She took a step closer. "Asil!" This time, her voice was sharp with urgency. Still, Asil didnt moveexcept for one slow gesture. She lifted a hand and pointed toward something on the wooden doors of Fort Warren. Abby turned her head. The sorceress Vee had spoken the truththe way out was open. But that wasnt what had Asil frozen in place. "Asil, we need to get back," Abby said, concern creeping into her voice. Her friend didnt budge. Didnt even blink. Abby felt a deep unease settle into her stomach. Asil wasnt ignoring her. She was somewhere else entirely, locked in whatever thought had taken hold. Abby clenched her jaw. She''d push her forward if she couldnt pull Asil away from this. "Lucia. Wolf form," Abby commanded. The tiny dachshund beside her shimmered, shifting seamlessly back into her majestic wolf form, her silvery fur bristling. She padded toward Abby, ears flicking forward. Abby swallowed hard. She already knew what had to happen next. Pulling the root from her pouch, she retrieved a strip of cloth and carefully secured it to Lucias front leg. She gave it a firm tug, testing the knot. "Take this back to Cressa," she said. Lucia lowered her head in acknowledgment, muscles tensing as she prepared to bolt But then she hesitated. Instead of running, the wolf turned back and looked between Abby and Asil. Then her gaze settled fully on Asil, and she let out a low, uncertain whine. Lucia knew. She knew the same thing Abby did. Once they stepped inside Fort Warren, the gate would close behind them. There would be no turning back. Abbys throat tightened. Taking Lucias muzzle in both hands, she lowered herself so she could look the wolf directly in the eyes. "We can take it from here, sweet girl," she murmured, voice trembling. "Cressa needs you. You can join us after she gets the root." The lie sat heavy on her tongue. Lucia stared at her for a long moment. Then, with a soft, understanding growl, she nuzzled Abbys cheek one last time before turning toward the open courtyard. She paused at the edge, casting one last look at Asil. Then, like a silver streak, she was gone. Abby wiped the tears from her eyes and turned toward her friend. Asil was still staring at the door. Abby walked up the stone steps and stopped beside her. And then she saw it. Letters. Carved deep into the ancient wood. She traced them with her fingers, confusion knitting her brow. Slowly, she sounded them out. "J-A-Q-O-V-H-A-R-T-S," Abby murmured. At first, she didnt understand. But then The last four letters struck her like a hammer. H-A-R-T. Asils last name. Her stomach dropped. "Wait what does that?" "Asil?" Her friend was crying. Silent, steady tears streaming down her cheeks. "Asil, what is it?" Asils fingers lingered over the carved name, voice thick with emotion. "Jack of Harts," she whispered. Abbys breath caught in her throat. Asil swallowed hard, composing herself just enough to speak. "That was Jacks gamer tag," she said hoarsely. "He always wanted something unique something he could use across all platforms." She stopped, her breath shaking. And then, in a whisper so soft Abby almost didnt hear "That means Jack was here." Chapter 25: Advanced Dungeon Voodoo The Demogorgon lunged in a blur, half-scaly flesh and too many limbs, closing the gap before either could blink. Instinct propelled Petros to raise a hand, summoning Wardens Embrace in a shimmering haze of golden light. But the Demogorgon was already on him, crashing into the boys torso with terrifying force. Petross cry of pain echoed off the corridor walls as he tumbled helplessly. Saul reacted on sheer reflex, his wolfen muscles launching him forward. He seized the end of Petross cloak in his jaws, using his momentum to cushion the boys fall. They rolled in a half-controlled tumble, the wolfs thick fur and powerful jaw preventing Petros from smashing headlong into the floor. For a moment, Petros froze in shock, the corridor spinning around him. Then a warm, rough tongue dragged across his cheek, jarring him back to reality. He coughed, gasping as he shoved himself upright. II hate that thing, he managed, voice trembling. Saul barked sharply, echoing the sentiment. His ears flattened, hackles raised, as he turned to rejoin the fight. At the far side, Jack had barely recovered from the initial chaos. He stood with his staff braced against the ground, eyes darting between Petross near-disaster and the Demogorgon, which spun toward him in a frenzy of claws and snapping mandibles. Oh, hell no, Jack snarled. He drove his staff down, planting it into the stone floor, channeling familiar energies. Chain Lightning crackled through the aira searing web of electricity hooked into the Demogorgon mid-leap, hurling it backward. It crashed through the open doorway and smashed against the wall on the other side. Jack took a heartbeat to gather his mana, runes along his staff glowing in sequence. Shyra Zural Fire and Void magic swirled at his fingertips, the combined forces humming with savage power. ShyraZural! A blast of black-flamed destruction tore across the threshold, engulfing the Demogorgons twisted form in scorching, soul-searing heat. It unleashed an unholy shriek that made the hall vibrate with raw pain. The wolf lunged in, jaws snapping for the Demogorgons throat. Even writhing in agony, the beast managed to block the kill bite, forcing Sauls fangs to clamp down on its forearm instead. With furious strength, it slammed Saul against the floor, the wallseverything it could reachtrying to dislodge him. Petross cast Wardens Embrace without missing a beat. A shield of luminescent gold wrapped around the wolf, reducing the brutal impacts. Saul held tight with feral resolve, refusing to let go. Blood matted his fur, but he didnt yield an inch. Jack locked eyes with Petros. They exchanged a nod of grim determination. Already, Petros was readying another spell. At last, the Demogorgon managed to fling Saul free. The wolf yelped as he smashed into the corridor wall, collapsing in a painful heap. Petros dashed forward, calling on Soul Mend to knit Sauls wounds, while Jack sprang into actionchanneling another wave of energy through the staff. Firestorm. The air above the Demogorgon shimmered. Flames rained down like molten arrows, each strike sizzling against diseased flesh. The stench of charred monster filled the corridor, and the Demogorgon howled, thrashing its many limbs. But it still refused to collapse. Flames licked across its body, yet it lurched forward, claws extended. Jack erected a barrier into existence just in time using his mana manipulation skill. The monster collided with it in a punishing impact, sending Jack skidding backward until he slammed against the far wall. The Demogorgon rebounded off the barrier, rolling in a half-dazed sprawl. Jacks arms shook from the strain. Recovering quickly, Jack soaked in as much residual mana as he could muster and casted Chain Lightning. Electricity sparked again as the spell tore through the narrow space, arcs of blue light dancing off the stone as he put everything into the spell. Each bolt hammered the creatures limbs, forcing it to convulse. A strangled roar tore from its throat as it doggedly crawled toward Jack, refusing to die. Just die already! Jack hissed, sweat beading on his brow. He poured the last surge of mana into the chain. The corridor lit up in a final, crackling flash. With a guttural roar, the Demogorgon leapedsmacking full force into Jack, then falling limp. The beasts full weight collapsed onto him, pinning him to the cold stone floor. For a few seconds, no one moved. Petros rushed over, practically dragging Saul along. The wolf latched onto the Demogorgons lifeless body, yanking it off Jack. Panting, Jack rolled onto his back with a wince, arms trembling. Gods, I hate this place, he muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. Petros crouched beside him, staff raised. Dont move, he cautioned, weaving Soul Mend over Jacks battered forma soothing gold glow washed over them, sealing cuts and knitting bruises. Even Saul received some measure of healing. The wolf let out a quiet whimper of relief. They all slumped back, breath ragged. Dull echoes of the chaotic fight lingered in the corridorsplintered wood, scorched stone, and the pungent metallic tang of demonic blood. Jack, still sprawled on the floor, managed a pained grin. So, he said, lifting a finger in jest, whos opening the next door? Petros only glared, chest still heaving from exertion. Saul rumbled a low bark, more irritated than amused. The distant flicker of torches along the hall cast long, ominous shadows against the uncountable doors looming on either side. They had survivedbut a half-dozen more doors waited, each a potential new nightmare. The demogorgons body still lay sprawled on the floor, a gruesome testament to the fight that had almost killed them. Even so, Jack and Petros found themselves momentarily elated by the chime of their journals rewards. The new notifications danced before their eyes, each describing loot and XP: Jack looted an Alpha Demogorgon Core and a Basic Pair of Pants (completely useless, so he shoved them into his pouch to sell later) plus three silver coins and a handful of copper. More importantly, Chain Lightning had advanced to Level 5, promising more powerful hits on multiple targets. Petros gained the same coinage and ended up with a Basic Flat Cap that had no real armor or stats. He donned it nonetheless, a small, silly grin passing across his face. Ill take fashion over function any day, he joked. Jack closed the door to the demogorgons room with a decisive yank. They both plopped down to rest, draining a bit of the distilled water from a cask in Jacks inventory. The immediate tension of the fight ebbed as the water restored bits of their mana. Saul, settled beside them, quietly licking his wounds. Peering down the corridor, Jack counted more identical doors. Each stretched along either side, diagonally placed, giving the hallway a skewed, dizzying sense of infinite repetition. I say we ignore these doors, Jack finally said, stowing his half-finished water cask. Whatevers at the far end might be our actual way out. Petros gave a faint nod, eyes flicking back at the closed demogorgon door. You wont hear me complaining. One demogorgon is enough for a lifetime. Jack smirked. But hey, we handled it beautifully, right? A tinge of humor broke the lingering dread in his voice. Petros managed a small smile. I guess so. Next time, maybe we do it with less risk of being ripped in half? Jack stood, brushing off dust from his robe. A man can dream. He clutched his staff, gestured for Petros and Saul to follow, and set off down the hall. They passed the next door on the right without pausing, though Petros cast it a wary sidelong glance. Another door on the left came into view, identical to the othersheavy wood, faint runic markings around the frame. Jack thought he heard something on the other side, a soft scraping. He unconsciously pressed an ear to the cool surface, his hand drifting to the handle. Petros grabbed his arm. Jack. Lets keep going, he hissed. His eyes darted back toward the demogorgon room with a visible gulp. We dont need more surprises right now. Jack gave a sheepish chuckle, stepping away from the knob. Right. Good call. They advanced a few steps farther when a sharp creaking noise sliced through the silence. In unison, they spun aroundboth the door on their right and the door opposite it on the left were swinging open simultaneously, revealing two rooms shrouded in darkness. A chill prickled across Petross arms. Subconsciously, the pair backed off, mindful of not stepping too close to the next door in line. Jack gripped his staff, runes already sparking faintly, while Petross hands glowed with golden light. Saul lowered his head and growled. A swirl of shapes coalesced from one doorway: two Greater Wraiths (Levels 13 and 14), their smoky forms drifting forward. From the opposite door, a clank of metal rang out as Ghostly Knightsfour of them, all Level 13marched into view. Each knight bore battered black armor, visors showing only flickers of eerie light. One held a sword, another held an ax, the third carried a mace, and the last held a spear. Guess this is happening, Jack muttered, exhaling quickly. He planted his staff against the stone floor, addressing Saul first: Hold! Then he let Chain Lightning flare. Electricity ripped through the corridor, lancing into the nearest wraith, then arcing to the second wraith, bouncing over to the line of ghostly knights in a staggering chain. Instead of diminishing, the lightning drew energy from each spirit it passed, amplifying its power. The final knight in line erupted into sparks, vanishing in a hiss of scorched ectoplasm. The wraiths, though wounded, seemed to shrug off part of the lightnings effect and glided in, hollow faces turning on Jack with a hungry hiss. Saul, take out the last knight! Jack barked, his attention never leaving the approaching wraiths. The wolf darted off, weaving through the mob, heading for a knight lurking toward the back with the spear. Petros advanced, summoning a spectral guardian that swooped in to collide with the wraiths. The ephemeral shape crashed into them, stalling their approach. Jack channeled mana through his staff, letting a swirl of runic power gather at its tip. ShazZural! he yelled, channeling the Shadow and Spirit runes off the staff. The two wraiths were sent convulsing, taking significant shadow damage as one of the ghostly knights jumped forward, blade aimed for Jacks head, but a golden barrier from Wardens Embrace slowed the attack. Jack pivoted, the knight missed the man and collided with Jacks staff, sending it skidding across the hall. He snorted in annoyance, cursing under his breath that any creature could move his staff so easily. Ill finish the wraiths, he hissed, focusing again. Another Chain Lightning flared, crackling between the two spirits. They spasmed, shriveling from the repeated shocks, and dematerialized in a swirl of black mist. Farther back, Saul had thrown himself upon one knight, teeth locked around its midsection. Another ghostly knight bashed him with a heavy mace, but Wolf Hide glimmered, preventing lethal damage. The battered knight on the ground gave a final rasping wail as Saul tore it apart. The second knightbriefly hesitantraised its weapon again, but it was too late. The wolf lunged for the kill in a flash of movement, savage and unrelenting. A wave of notifications pinged across Petross and Jacks journals as the knights and wraiths were all finished. Panting, the trio reunited, the corridor silent once more save for the hum of leftover magic. Jack collapsed against the wall, staff retrieved. Petros sank beside him, raising a hand to cast quick healing spells over everyones bruises. Thankfully, this bout seemed less draining than the demogorgon fightshockingly, no one was severely injured. Im not sure whether I hate random demon beasts or random undead soldiers more, Jack said. Youd think the real annoyance was behind those doors, but apparently they come to us. Petros smirked faintly, rummaging through the fallen knights for loot. No alpha among them, he reported. We each get a small pile of coins. Some minor cores, mostly worthless. Thats thats that. They briefly paused to catch their breath and patch up minor wounds. None dared wander too far from each other or stray close to another door. At last, a mischievous glint lit Jacks eye. Lets open the rest one at a time, he mused, stretching his shoulders. We cant have them all bursting open on us again, right? Petros shook his head, exasperated. Why do I get the feeling youd enjoy that? Jack grinned. Because Im starting to love how much XP these creeps give us. I told you, were unstoppable. Saul barked, as if echoing his agreementthough he still limped slightly, wincing every time he shifted his hind leg. The respite was short-lived. A heavy creaking reverberated through the corridor, prompting everyone to freeze. Their eyes darted down the hall, where the next door was swinging open on its own, though theyd barely come within ten feet of it. Jack drew in a shaky breath. Okay, thats definitely not a good sign. Petros answered with a grim half-smile, stepping forward with fresh mana swirling around his hands. Saul growled, limping in behind them, unwavering in his loyalty. And thus, the corridors next terror awaitedno rest for outworlders forging their path in the deepest realms of shadow. After the furious battle with the wraiths and knights, a tense hush draped the corridor. Jack, Petros, and Saul stood poised near yet another open door, hearts still hammering as they braced for the next threat. Seconds passed, and no monster emerged. Gradually, Jack allowed the crackling electricity in his right hand to dissipate, lowering his staff in measured caution. The wolf, however, refused to budge. Hackles raised, Saul growled low, muscles bunched as though expecting an unseen enemy to pounce. Petros, fists aglow with golden energy, cast a wary glance at Jack. Cover me, Jack said, creeping toward the open doorway. His voice tried to sound confident, but a haunted edge lingered from the corridors earlier horrors. Petros snorted, falling into step behind him. Cover me, he says, he muttered mockingly. What does he think Ive been doing? Jack shot him a brief smirk, then turned his attention to the threshold. When he reached the door and peered inside, his posture stiffened. A moment later, to Petross astonishment, Jack strode through the doorway without so much as a glance back. Jack? Petros called, but heard no response. A jolt of alarm flashed through him. He swallowed hard, adrenaline flaring again as he gripped his staff. Saul? The wolf uttered a confused whine and nudged Petros forward with his muzzle. Summoning a last shred of courage, Petros stepped up to the doorway. The room beyond looked...empty. There was no sign of Jackjust a barren stone floor. Petros could feel the goosebumps rising along his arms. He glanced over his shoulder at Saul, who was whining now in real distress. The wolf scratched at the invisible barrier as though he couldnt pass. Mom? Petros whispered abruptly, eyes widening as a figure flickered inside the room. He could do nothing but stumble backward, nearly colliding with Saul. But the wolfs presence didnt soothe himan unseen force tugged at his mind, drawing him inward. Steeling himself, Petros walked into the room, and then he vanished from Sauls sight.
Jack blinked, finding himself in his old living room. Everything looked exactly as it had the year before the Shadow Realms Online beta fiasco: the worn couch, the TV displaying a battle from SR3s final boss fight, and just a few feet away, Asil sat, controller in hand, finishing off a digital dragon. Asil? he called softly, heart thudding in confusion. Seeing her heresmiling that old, familiar smilewrenched a buried longing from him. One second, hon, she chirped, eyes not leaving the screen. She turned to him with a grin when she killed the boss. Its about time The words died as Chain Lightning ripped through the living room scene, forcing the shape of Asils body to distort and convulse. She hurled backward, striking the far wall. At once, the living room vanished, and Jack realized he stood in a shadowy chamber, the air thick with a rancid smell. A flicker of raw guilt flashed across Jacks gaze. He could sense the illusion, yet for one painful moment, he wanted to believe. Then memory and adrenaline kicked inhe unleashed a sudden Even knowing it wasnt real, the ache of betraying his wifes face cut him deeply. The shape that had worn Asils form now lay crumpled against the stone. A swirling, half-corporeal phantom started to crawl away, trailing arcs of Jacks residual electricity. Anger glinted in his eyes. My mana sense is too sharp for that cheap trick, he growled, ignoring the tears that threatened. You messed with the wrong illusions. He raised his hand, primed for another arc of lightning, but the shadowy figure hissed and slipped through the wall before Jack could finish it. Jack stood there trembling, half from fury, half from heartbreak. He wiped a tear from his cheek and inhaled a shaky breath. This place keeps getting worse, he muttered. Then he turned to the door, stepping back into the corridor. Saul practically tackled him when he appeared, the wolfs anxious whine echoing. Jack let out a half-laugh, half-sob, ruffling Sauls fur. Im all right, buddy. I promise. His expression turned serious. Wheres Petros? The question gripped his stomach like a vise. Saul whimpered, turning to bark at the open doorway, where a second shapethis one a bit bulkiershifted in the gloom. Jacks staff lit with sparks instantly, but something held him back: a subtle sense that the presence behind the illusions was cunning enough to show him or Petros something personal. Petros, Jack whispered, swallowing hard. He marched in, staff brandished, determined not to be fooled again. Just inside, a stocky figure flickered in and out of viewlike a distorting shadow. Jack rushed forward, arms outstretched. He expected to grab empty air but collided with something solid, and the two of them tumbled free of the illusory haze. Jack stared down into Petross blank eyes, the teen slack-jawed and catatonic, tears trickling down his cheeks. Kid hey, Jack murmured, giving him a slight shake. Seeing the kid was unharmed, he turned and shot out an arc, however, the electricity bounced harmlessly off the floor as the phantom escaped through the far wall. Saul could now enter, bounding at their side. The wolf nudged Petros with his nose, whining softly. Petros shuddered, blinking back awareness as though waking from a nightmare. He let out a shaky sob, clinging to Jacks arm. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. They sat like that for several minutes, breathing in the stale, bitter air of the chamber. Jacks heart pounded, and fresh anger roiled against whoever orchestrated these illusions. Finally, Petros spoke in a trembling voice. II saw my mom. Another painful pause followed. Shes been gone so long. I knew it wasnt her, but it felt so real. Shehugged me. I just couldnt let go. Jack closed his eyes, recalling the Asil apparition that had forced him to strike. This place is cruel, he agreed softly. This entire game is messing with us. Makes me want to put a hole in every wall. Petros sniffled, a half-laugh escaping. We have to finish itbecause I cant leave it like this, he said, voice still trembling but resolute. We cant let illusions of our loved ones be used against us. Jack nodded, pulling the teen closer and letting him cry out the last of the fear. Saul pressed against Petross leg, ears flattened in worry, offering comfort in his canine way. When Petross breathing steadied, Jack pulled him to his feet. Ready to move on? Petros inhaled deeply, eyes puffy but determined. Y-yeah. Lets do this. They stepped away from the illusions domain, collecting themselves in the corridorone more door one more trap. The hall still branched out in either direction, lined with countless portals. Glaring at the oppressive gloom, Jack muttered, Im done letting this place toy with us. He cast a quick healing over Petros for good measure, ignoring the steady drain on his mana. We focus up, we push forward, no more illusions messing with our heads. Petros nodded, and together with Saul, they turned back into the flickering corridor light. Resolute after their illusions, they pressed onwhatever lay ahead would unite them, illusions or not. They advanced door by door, systematically tackling whatever abominations waited within. Each threshold they crossed came with an onslaught of bizarre nightmares: goblin hordes, undead fiends, even twisted illusions of past adversaries. Between each encounter, Jack, Petros, and Saul paused just long enough to catch their breath before pressing on. More than once, Jack quipped that if this truly was a beta test, the developers had either a very dark sense of humor or zero compassion. I cant imagine the devs intentionally coding illusions of our loved ones, Petros said at one point, recalling the illusory mother hed seen in the previous chamber. Maybe its some messed-up algorithm tapping into our subconscious. Jack nodded solemnly. Gotta love advanced AI running wild, right? He tried to force a laugh, but the memory of striking an illusion of Asil hung over him. Im telling them to nerf this once we get out. Nobody wants nightmares that real. Despite the tension, they leveled up quickly, gleaning precious loot and forging new spells. Between doors, Petros would earn the new ability Soul Bound Scimitara glittering, ethereal bladeto practice a few strikes in the corridor, trying to adapt to its unfamiliar weight and spectral curve. Often, Jack would grin, eyes flicking to the teens newly learned Wailing Requiem. No fair you get two new attacks, he teased. Ive just got my Fire and Lightning cranked to insane levels. Petros journal update: Congratulations, you reached level 15, new abilities unlocked;
Wailing Requiem: Upon casting, Petros channels the restless spirits of recently departed foes, calling them forth as ethereal specters. Though individually weaker than their living counterparts, their collective assault inflicts steady damage over time, overwhelming enemies through sheer volume. Each summoned spirit lashes out with basic attacks, gradually stacking DoT (damage over time) on any nearby foe. Once the duration ends or the spirits are destroyed, they fade, howling softly back into the ether. (Mana Cost: High, duration: 10 seconds, Cooldown: 30 seconds) Soul Bound Scimitar: Petros conjures a radiant, curved blade forged entirely of astral magic. Its edge shimmers with spiritual energy, cutting both flesh and essence. Each strike deals +5 bonus damage, with a 14% chance to siphon a portion of the enemys life forcehealing Petros for a fraction of the damage inflicted. Every swing of the scimitar carries a small chance of triggering Life Drain, replenishing Petross health and reinforcing his role as a resilient support-offense hybrid.(Duration: 30 seconds, Mana Cost: Medium, Cast Time: 3 seconds Cooldown: None (though recasting replaces any existing scimitar)
Petros only smirked. Yeah, but your chain lightning alone could power a city block. They eventually discovered a near-empty chambera rare respitewhere no creature lunged at them. Closing the door behind them, they settled in to rest. Jack rummaged through his pouch, pulling out some bread and the last of their cask water. Petros took the opportunity to check his updated stats, confirming hed just hit Level 15and ironically, the new spells seemed tailor-made for the dungeons brutal fights. Jack had soared past Level 16, each level awarding multiple skill points. They swapped notes on how best to allocate them. Jack Journal Update,
Firestorm Level 4 evolves to Flame Tempest (Level 1): Summons a widespread conflagration from above, blanketing the battlefield in molten embers and swirling gusts of superheated air. Foes trapped within the blazing winds take continuous damage over a short period, with each tick of flame stacking to inflict additional burn. Flame Tempests area coverage grows wider than the old Firestorms, catching more enemies at once. Damage ramps up if the same foes remain in the arearepresenting the scorching build-up of layered fire. (Cooldown: 0 sec, Mana Cost: Low, Medium, High) Chain Lightning level 4 evolves to Voltaic Cascade (Level 1): Channels a continuous barrage of high-voltage arcs that jump between enemies with greater intensity each time, feeding off residual sparks and amplified by his refined mana circuit. The final strikes can stun or briefly interrupt lower-level foes, forging momentary openings in tense battles. (Cooldown: 0 sec, Mana Cost: Low, Medium, High)
Thirteen unspent points, Jack sighed. Game logic is trying to reward me for frying everything on sight. Petros chuckled, sliding his flat cap askew. Eleven for me. If we keep up this pace, well be unstoppable. I just need to get used to actually using this scimitar in real combat. Jack waggled his staff. And me? I can chain-cast my new Flame Tempest and Voltaic Cascade. You saw how they wrecked those dopplegangers, right? They shared a lookremembering the moment theyd fought twisted, evil clones of themselves. The illusions had matched them blow for blow, nearly winning until Jack and Petros resorted to spouting random nonsense to disrupt the clones predictable strategies. It was a close call, but theyd triumphed. No cliche goatees, though, Jack had joked. The memory still brought a tiny grin to Petross face. Refreshed from the short rest, they braced themselves for the next door, only to realize theyd cleared nearly all but one. Second to last one, Petros said, breath hitching at the possibility it might be the final trial. Wonder if it leads to a mini boss fight Jack eyed the door with a mix of dread and excitement. Only one way to find out. He reached for the handle, and the door swung open on its own. Inside was a fleshy abomination, a massive Alpha Beast labeled simply The Monstrosity (Level 17) in their journals. A tower of quivering, pulsating flesh bristled with random limbs, eyes, and half-formed faces. From multiple mouths, it uttered an agonized plea: Kill... me... Petros clapped a hand over his mouth, stomach churning at the sight. Gods, thats horrifying. Saul let out a low whimper, seemingly unnerved. The monster seemed too huge to exit the chamberso the trio tried to quietly back out and close the door behind them. But in a heartbeat, they realized the walls had warped around them; they stood inside the chamber, with the door sealed behind them. Jack swore under his breath, staff already alive with sparks. Guess theres no skipping this one. We handle it, Petros said, summoning his newly minted Soul Bound Scimitar. The astral blade shimmered in his hands, though he gripped it awkwardly. I justjust cant let it suffer like this. The Monstrosity roared, or moaned, or possibly both. A wave of Dark Mana rippled across its form, lashing out in jagged pulses. Saul lunged, teeth bared, but a single thrashing limb smacked him aside. The wolf skidded across the slimy floor, falling limpknocked unconscious in one brutal hit. Jack and Petros exchanged a horrified glance. Each time they attacked with a known spell, the creature twisted, conjuring a polar opposite. Flames fizzled under watery illusions; lightning sputtered under waves of earthen energy. The abomination adapted, learning their moves as quickly as they cast them. We have to coordinate, Jack gasped, narrowly dodging another scything limb. It can only adapt to one ability at a time, I think. Petros nodded, eyes scanning Sauls still body. We keep it busy; Ill handle the healing after. We just have to strike together. Jack inhaled, pulling every droplet of mana he had. Summoning a swirl of scorching Flame Tempest, he let embers gather overhead. At the same moment, Petros lifted his staffWailing Requiem building in a swirl of ghostly forms. The Monstrosity tried to shift its counter to fire, but the sudden wave of spirit-wraiths hammered it from another angle, gnawing at its intangible essence. Overwhelmed, the creature shrieked, limbs flailing spastically. Flame Tempest fell in a wave of molten cinders, layering unstoppable stacks of burn. Wailing Requiem layered a savage DoT from summoned specters, each one carving away lumps of flesh. The Monstrosity let out an echoing, pitiful roar. The final blow came when Jack poured the last of his lightning into the swirling fire, forging a brief, chaotic synergy that tore the abomination from within. With a final, trembling sigh, the Monstrosity collapsed. The mouths parted, speaking two words that chilled both men: Thank you. In an instant, the vile mass disintegrated into black sludge, staining the chamber in an acrid stench. Jack groaned, stumbling over to Saul, who lay prone at the edge of the room. Petros hurried alongside him, feeding Saul a healing salve plus a wave of Soul Mend. The wolf stirred, letting out a faint whimper. Jack closed his eyes in relief, whispering softly, Good boy weve got you. A ping resounded in their journals. The kill had rewarded them generously: Petros acquired the Monstrosity Alpha Core, faintly pulsating with unusual energy. Jack claimed a Dark Mana Crystal, its description in Shadow Tongue with an unknown level rating. I received a prompt in my journal to absorb the crystal, Jack held up his book, grinning. Realizing Jack can be a bit impulsive, Petros laid a hand on the mans arm. Hold off until we are clear of this dungeon, lets at least translate the description using the books I Petros hesitated at the last part ...borrowed from Gondel. He finished with a mock cough. Jacks grin grew more mischievous as he realized the kid knew him well. He stowed the crystal and journal back into his pouch for later consumption. He then slumped against a relatively cleaner patch of wall, exhaling shakily. Wedid it, he said, brushing sweat from his forehead. I cant believe how tough that was. Petros nodded, gaze flicking over the monstrous remains. It was suffering. Maybe we did it a mercy. They both fell silent, recollecting the beings final, heartbreaking words. Then they caught each others eye, steeling themselves anew. Petros rummaged out some potions, dividing them with Jack, while the wolf coughed quietly, eventually rising to his feet and trotting closer. All right, Jack said, in a subdued tone, Lets do a quick meditation to restore our mana then we move on to the last door. Maybe its the way out? this last one felt like a final boss for sure. Petros replied. It wasnt the way out. This is it, Jack said, pushing open the final door of the dungeon. Must be the exit. Yet the moment he stepped in, any notion of relief drained away. The chamber was a vaulted hall carved of black stone, ornate columns etched with ancient runes. At its center stood a massive, armored knightThe Black Hand (Level 18, Boss), as their journals plainly labeled it. Its blade dripped with dark, viscous energy, and the air around it crackled with malevolent force. Petros conjured his Scimita, exhaling. Great. They had to save the biggest nightmare for last. Saul let out a guttural snarl, fur bristling as he instinctively tried to circle to the knights flank. Yet before any of them could strike, the boss moved with inhuman speed, crossing the distance in a blur. Jack barely managed to backpedal, staff raised. Mana Drain Petros yelped, reading the red text swirling over the knights head. Tendrils of darkness lashed out from the Black Hands sword, coiling around Jacks arms. An instant later, Jack felt his mana siphoned away. His Flame Tempest fizzled before it could form in the air. Oh, come on! he spat, stumbling from the abrupt drain. Ill draw it off! Petros shouted, eyes blazing gold as he cast Wardens Embrace over Jack. A shimmering barrier momentarily cut the tendrils, freeing Jack from the drain effect. The knight turned, void-black visor swiveling. In a single unstoppable slash, it cleaved through Petross shield and nearly took his headPetros ducked at the last second, bracing himself against the shockwave of the blow. Saul lunged, aiming his jaws at the knights weapon arm, hoping to jar the blade loose. But the Black Hand swatted him aside with a backhanded blow, sending the wolf tumbling across the slick stone floor. You cant brute force this, either, Petros muttered, chest heaving. The bosss second strike nearly skewered him, ignoring the defensive wards as if they didnt exist. It it says unstoppable. Guess they werent kidding. Jack clenched his fists, adrenaline blazing. Well, unstoppable or not, were not done. Kid, watch for Summoned Shadows. Already, smears of darkness began coalescing in corners of the room, lesser forms scuttling out like wraithlike minions. We do the synergy thing? Petros called, eyes darting. We overload it? Jack offered him a cocky grin. See, thats why I keep you around. Besides comedic relief, of course. He kicked off the ground, staff swirling with newly found manathe boss had drained a chunk, but Jacks advanced control let him re-channel fresh energy anyway. Ignite! he bellowed, forging a partial Flame Tempest overhead. Embers rained, trying to burn the Summoned Shadows. The Black Hands blade flashed with darkness, flicking away the worst of the flames, though the lesser minions burst into black cinders. The knight advanced on Jack once again, ignoring the flicks of flame. Petros slid in behind the boss, summoning Soul Bound Scimitar with a swirl of radiant essence, then slicing at a gap in the bosss armor. The blade connectedonly for the black armor to shimmer, the blow barely cutting. Still, the knight hissed, as if wounded in spirit more than flesh. It can be hurt! Petros cried, spinning away to avoid a savage counter. The sword cut empty air, unstoppable in force, but lacking a target. From across the hall, Saul sprang to his feet, shaking off the earlier strike. With a short bark, he lunged in againthis time biting into the knights greaves, trying to hamper its movement. The boss hammered at him with unstoppable blows, but Petros cast a quick Soul Mend to keep the wolf conscious. Jack seized the opening. Lets do it! Overload it, remember? He poured mana into his staff, eyes narrowing. Voltaic Cascade sparked around him like a lethal halo of electricity, crackling against the stone columns. Petros pivoted, channeling every bit of spiritual force he could muster. The room reverberated with the hum of combined spells. Cmon, big guy, Jack taunted, stepping into the knights line of sight. Drain me if you dare! The Black Hand thrust out a gauntleted hand, hooking into Jacks swirling mana. The darkness around the knights blade thickened. In that instant, Jack unleashed Voltaic Cascadenot at the knight, but into the malicious vortex that tried to devour his mana. Electricity crackled along the black blade, feeding into the bosss armor, forcing a spark overload from the inside out. The knight staggered, black energies flickering erratically. Seeing the boss reeling, Petros lunged in with his Soul Bound Scimitar, slashing at the knights chest. The blade glowed as it struck, siphoning dark essence from the knights spirit. Saulnow! Petros barked, and the wolf sprang, seizing the knights weapon arm in powerful jaws. Simultaneously, Jack let off a final burst of Flame Tempest, setting the bosss cloak ablaze. The synergy of scorching flame, lightning discharge, and spirit-blade forced the knight to stumble back, black armor fracturing with each blow. Suddenly, the boss roared, an inhuman cry reverberating in Shadow Tongue. Energy swirled around it, and for a moment it tried to gather unstoppable force for a last strike. Petros saw the Summoned Shadows reappearing at the perimeter, creeping in from every corner. Hes about to do something big, watch out! Jack refused to back down. Then we do it bigger! He poured the last of his stored mana into Voltaic Cascade, arcs chaining off the columns, bouncing between the Summoned Shadows, and feeding back into the boss. Petros, in turn, thrust his scimitar forward, allowing a final Wailing Requiem to swirl around themdozens of ephemeral spirits shrieking, tearing at the Black Hands tether to the demon god. The corridor exploded in sparks and haunting wails. The knights unstoppable blow never landedits armor cracked outright, leaking vile darkness. Letting out a final, ragged hiss, the Black Hand sank to one knee. Valnok khamorshor Zuralgor! it whispered in an echoing tone, the syllables twisting with malice. Then, in a swirl of dark vapor, it fadedarmor clattering to the floor, dissolving into black mist. Saul panted heavily, fur singed, muzzle caked with swirling shadows. Jack and Petros bent over, clutching knees, panting as their last spells winked out. The final Summoned Shadows melted into the air, undone by the bosss defeat. After a long moment of stunned silence, Petros laughed shakily, voice cracking in relief. We did it Jack, still trying to catch his breath, pointed a finger upward. Of course we did. Were unstoppable ourselves, he joked, though the adrenaline left him lightheaded. We are unstoppable, right? Petros let out a snort. We better be, after all that. He sank cross-legged onto the floor, rummaging for potions and healing salves. With his mana reserve being almost drained, Petros gave a grateful sigh, and rubbed a healing concoction on Sauls shoulders, nodding to Jack to accept a portion. A final whisper from the dissolving boss echoed in the gloomsome snippet of Shadow Tongue that neither could fully decipher. The Black Hand was gone, but its disembodied hiss left them certain this wasnt the final end of the demon gods designs. Jack exhaled, letting his staff lean against a half-shattered column. No idea what it said. Probably cursing us. Or maybe mocking us. But we won. Petros let out a shaky laugh, the tension of the Black Hands defeat still coursing through his veins. So... is this the end? That archway might be our real exit. His voice sounded hesitant, and he cast a wary glance at the wide chamber, half-expecting another foe to materialize out of the gloom. Jack shrugged, eyes lingering on a faintly glowing set of runes carved around the arch. If it is the exit, then that was one brutal final boss. But something tells me that arch leads deeperanother level of this damned dungeon. They both turned to see that a plain wooden door now stood in the far end of the hall, simple and unassuming, as though the towering knight had physically hidden it from view. Saul padded over, sniffing at the frame, letting out a low, uncertain whine. How did we not notice that before? Petros murmured. Jack smirked. Giant unstoppable knight was a bit of a distraction. They took a moment to rest, checking over their new loot. Jack paused on a small jade figurine shaped like a squatting monkey, hands clasped tightly over its eyes. Mizura, key one of three, he read from the items short description in his journal. An odd weight clung to it, far heavier than something so small and innocuous should feel. Petros leaned in, eyebrows arched. See no evil, right? The classic monkey? Jack gave a slow nod. And its labeled as a key. Probably means there are two morehear no evil and speak no evil. He frowned, tucking the statue away. No idea what they unlock, but if its from this dungeon, Id guess something big. Petros simply shrugged, mindful of how labyrinthine their beta test had become. Guess well find out eventually, he said. Now more composed, Jack closed his eyes, letting his advanced mana sense fan out across the room. The faint glimmer of a grand archway behind them beckoned with swirling runes, while in front, the plain wooden door waited just as silently. Jack sensed a different kind of resonance from each threshold. Lets take that door, Jack said, a note of certainty in his voice. My gut says its a way station or respite from the next level. The arch, though, Im betting thats the path forwardlike, deeper into the dungeon. Petros turned, glancing between them. So... one leads to the next circle of hell, and the other leads us out, maybe. Jack laughedtired but genuinely amused. Or the door just dumps us somewhere bizarre. The dungeon loves messing with us. Still, they approached the wooden door. Petros inhaled deeply, meeting Jacks eyes. Im ready. Saul stood between them, tail wagging gently; he, too, seemed relieved that no towering knights or fleshy horrors lunged to block their path. The second Jack touched the handle, the door swung inward. The three stepped through, uncertain and braced for another wave of horrors. Instead, they found themselves blinking in fresh sunlight and open aira field dotted with wildflowers and the great oak from which they had started so many trials ago. Jacks eyebrows shot up. Back here? He whirled, half expecting an archway or corridor. Instead, the wooden door now stood behind them, free-standing in the middle of the meadow. They could see the gloomy corridor if they looked through the doorway, but from the outside, it was just a weathered plank of wood leading to nowhere. Petros let out a slow whistle as he walked around to the other side. There, he saw only the majestic oak and rolling grassno sign of the corridor theyd come from. Now that is advanced dungeon voodoo, he murmured. Saul whined and nudged Jacks leg, as if urging them to leave it behind for good. Jack patted the wolfs neck. Yeah, lets... lets just see if we can close it. He eased the door shut, and it latched with a gentle click. They watched in silence as the door shimmered, gradually fading from existence. But before it could vanish altogether, Jack quickly fished out a spare dagger and carved something into the wood. Petros cocked his head, curiosity tugging at him. Whatre you doing? Leaving our mark, Jack said simply, scraping each letter with a grin. The teenage Spirit Warden joined him, peering close as the inscription took shape. Then, with a final slash, Jack stepped back. They both grinned at the ragged letters:
JAQOVHARTS
Couldve just put Jack & Petros were here? Petros teased, eyebrows raised. Jack smirked. Nah. Gotta keep some mystery for the next poor sap who stumbles onto that dungeon. They stepped aside as the door wavered, the carving shimmering with it, until the entire structure faded into nothingness. The meadow fell quiet again, an afternoon breeze rustling the tall grass. After the claustrophobic corridors, the fresh air felt like a gift. Petros exhaled contentedly. Guess we conquered a chunk of that dungeon. And we lived to brag about it. He glanced around the wide field, feeling a swirl of relief. Ready to head back to Pendle? Jack slung an arm over the boys shoulders, smirking. Lets. That place might even feel normal after all this. He cast one lingering look at where the door had stood. The inscription they left was goneat least to the naked eye. But hopefully, it would remain as a testament to their half-insane, half-heroic feats. Saul trotted ahead, ears perked. The two players followed, hearts still pounding with adrenaline but stirring with renewed hope. After all the illusions, boss fights, and twisted key found along the way, theyd earned a moment of real sunshineand a chance to plan for whatever mysteries the next level of the dungeon might still hold. Chapter 26: Still not a Gamer Asils fingers hovered over the carved letters on the stout wooden door C JAQOVHARTS C a gamer tag that wrenched her heart. She allowed the swirl of relief, sadness, and hope to well up for a moment. Then her tears were gone as fast as theyd come. Abby squeezed her shoulder gently, a brief gesture of comfort. Lets get this over with, Asil said, pushing the door open. Her resolve hardened in her voice. They stepped into a stone hall that stretched away into flickering shadows. Along either side of the passage, doors stood half ajar or battered off their hinges. The torchlight from the walls played over deep scratches gouged into the floor and dark scorch marks across the stoneclear signs of combat. Asils gaze flicked across each gouge, the corners of her mouth tightening in a grim set. Abby tapped Asils arm, her eyes wide. Asil look. Asil turned to glance back at the thresholdonly to find that Fort Warrens courtyard had vanished. In its place lay a dim chamber lit by one feeble torch on the far wall. At the center sprawled the carcass of a hideous creature, its limbs twisted in unnatural angles, half burnt and half melted as though battered by powerful magic. A tremor of revulsion ran through Abby. Shed seen goblins and demons, even large wolves, but this thing looked dredged from the darkest nightmares. Sensing her dread, Asil stepped over to examine the corpse. Its a Demogorgon, she murmured, eyeing the scorch marks and half-severed limbs. Somebody cooked it good. Im betting, Jack. A fierce surge of pride flickered across her face. Jack is alive blowing through this corridor. Lets not dwell on it. She wiped her hands reflexively. Weve got a ways to go. They pressed further along the passage, peering into each open door as they passed: black smears of monster blood, toppled furniture, and more battered bodies. Every step amplified the sense of a hurricane-like pathsomeone unstoppable forging through just hours, maybe days, before. The quiet unsettled them more than any active threat. Dyou think hes alone? Abby asked the faint torchlight painting anxious shadows on her face. She had no clue who might travel with Jack, but the distribution of fallen foessome scattered in flanking positions, others apparently dispatched at rangesuggested a coordinated effort. Asil pressed her lips tight, deep in thought. I dont know, she said at last, taking in the battered corridor. Flickers of worry and curiosity warred in her eyes. If Jack was forging aheadmaybe accompanied, maybe notthen she and Abby had to keep up. She inhaled, forcing her focus onto what lay ahead. If the presence of a Demogorgon was any sign, greater trials still lurked in the gloom. The torches sputtered, and a faint draft passed through. At the end of the hall, yet another half-open door beckoned, the gloom behind it seemingly deeper than the rest. Asil gripped her blade hilt a little tighter, Abbys daggers held close at her side. Together, they advancedaware that wherever Jack had gone, they were only a few steps behind his echoing footsteps. Partway down the corridor, they came upon a single closed door. Nearly every other threshold so far had hung open, its contents long since purged by Jack C or so they assumed. The sudden sight of a firmly shut door set off a flare of warning in Asils mind. She paused, hand hovering near the latch, heart thudding with a twinge of apprehension. Abby stepped behind her, twin daggers clutched tight. Strange how this ones sealed, she murmured, flicking a glance at the scuffed floor. Think the boss forgot to clear it? Asil shook her head, ignoring the dryness creeping in her throat. Well see. She wrenched the handle and shoved the door open. Torchlight spilled into a chamber that, at first glance, appeared deserted. The walls bore marks of an older skirmishsplintered stone, old scorch linesbut no fresh bodies or monstrous remains. An inexplicable hush weighed on the air. It looks like Asil began, stepping further inside. But her words died the instant two humanlike figures coalesced out of thin air, flickering from silhouette to full form. Each wore a large, sinister grin, lips stretched unnervingly wide. Their eyes gleamed with predatory malice, giving them a near-demonic cast. Abby felt her stomach flip. One figure was the spitting image of Asilthe same lithe warriors frame, the same Blade Dancer sword in a twisted, shadowy version. The other a near-perfect copy of Abby, bearing twisted duplicates of her daggers. But where Asil and Abby were vibrant and alive, these copies exuded a colorless, distorted aura like something half-formed from nightmares. Doppelgangers? Abbys voice jumped. She recognized how they mimicked the real pairs posture and stance. Distorted copiesmissing warmth, but shaped in every detail. Then they attacked. Abbys reflection lunged first, brandishing a Shadow Dancer skill. A swirl of ephemeral darkness flickered around its ankles, letting it close the gap faster than Abby expected. Abby just managed to meet the strike, metal sparking as dagger clashed with dagger. The clones grin only widened. Theyre using my own style! Abby spat, flipping backward into Shadow Meldonly for her dark twin to vanish in the same swirl, reappearing at her flank. Abby hissed in shock, twisting to parry a second blow that nearly cut her shoulder. Meanwhile, Asils double hammered her with an unrelenting chain of Blade Dancer arcs. Each flourish spin, each precise step that Asil had spent years perfecting, it threw back at her with savage force. All that training Asil ground out, struggling to block. Thrown right back at me. The illusions moved in perfect sync, brandishing skills that matched or predicted their every synergy. The real Asil tried to coordinate with Abbylike they often didlaunching a combined opening. But the doppelgangers seemed to sense it, preemptively splitting them apart with a vicious counter. The echoing ring of steel and the hiss of illusions colliding turned the small chamber into a crucible of lethal skill. The black-lipped smirks on each clone never wavered, as though they derived genuine joy from cornering their real counterparts. Abbys copy let out a silent, open-mouthed laugh whenever Abby fumbled. Asils doppelganger barred its teeth in a grin that felt half feral, half-mocking, as though eager to see her fail at her own technique. Were so used to synergy! Abby shouted, her breath ragged. She deflected a slash aimed at her ribs, feeling the tremor run down her arm. But synergys worthless if they see every move coming! Asil tried to retort, only for her clone to spin low in a near-impossible pivot, almost severing Asils ankle. She leaped back in the nick of time, boots skidding on stone. We we need unpredictability, she managed, frustration setting her jaw tight. Another blow forced her on the defensive, each strike leaving her more winded. In the corner of her eye, Asil saw Abby forced into a half crouch, the doppelganger pressing dagger after dagger. They were wearing down. The sinister doubles advanced with seamless aggression, draining every ounce of the real pairs stamina. Minutes felt like hours as the close-quarters dance continued. The chamber resounded with the clang of steel. Abbys arms burned from a barrage of mirrored Shadow Dancer combos. She tried a cunning feinther twisted reflection responded identically, jarring her at the exact angle shed left open. Asil was faring no better. She attempted to chain a partial Blade Storm flourish, only for her double to jam the momentum with a sneering lunge. Both doubles emanated an aura of calm malice, showing no sign of tiring. Their unstoppable, grinding offense left the real duo gasping for breath. They were forced back, step by step, until Abby nearly collided with Asil in a precarious corner of the chamber. Despite being half-suffocated by the clones relentless assault, Abby forced a hoarse laugh. I think were in trouble, she panted, a trickle of sweat stinging her eye. Asils sword arm trembled from blocking repeated overhead chops. We cant keep this up, she growled, eyes flitting between the two copies. Those wide grinslike masks fixed on their own twisted joymade her shudder inwardly. They fight like theyre fresh. Were not. The illusions advanced again in perfect unison, dark blades raised in lethal arcs. Asil parried an overhead slash from her clone while Abby angled in to help but was cut off by a swipe from the second. It was all they could do to hold their ground, arms numb from the repeated collisions. A searing line of pain tore across Abbys forearm where the false Abby scored a glancing hit. Abby choked back a cry, stumbling into Asil. Asil tried to pivot to shield them both, but her clone hammered from the other side, leaving them pinned. Were so done, Abby coughed, though a flicker of determination still burned in her eyes. Asil bared her teeth. She refused to succumb, but her mind raced for any strategy. The doubles advantage was almost absolute: total knowledge of their fighting style. Wait she panted, half a new idea forming. But before she could say more, her doppelgangers savage grin loomed over her shoulder, blade slashing diagonally and forcing her to drop lower to block. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Both doppelgangers cackled silently, raising their weapons for a final, crushing assault. Abby tried to reposition, ignoring the throbbing in her arm. Asil steeled herself for a last stand. The flickering torchlight on the walls caught their exhausted expressions, the illusions monstrous grins, and the swirl of battered weapons. No synergy trick had worked, and the unstoppable doubles had them pinned to a corner. Sweat mingled with fear and resolvebecause if they couldnt out-fight these clones, they wouldnt even get a chance to see what had happened to Jack. Yet as the doubles plunged once more, the real Abby and Asil squared their jaws, determined to dig deep for a final push or fall in the attempt. The cornered real Asil and Abby were on the brink of collapse under the doppelgangers relentless onslaught. Each evil clone pressed its so-called owner with immaculate familiarity, turning every synergy attempt into a punishing counter. Despite their best efforts, the real duo found themselves battered, breath coming in ragged gasps. Then, a desperate idea flared in Asils mind. She blocked another savage slash from her look-alike and yelled over her shoulder, Waitswitch targets! Abby locked eyes with Asil, a fierce grin lighting her features. Worth a shot! In a flash, Abby spun away from her own double, leaving the twisted Abby mid-lunge. Simultaneously, Asil disengaged from her clone, pivoting toward the wicked copy of Abby. The doppelgangers faltered as though a puppet masters string yanked them off balance. Their monstrous grins flickeredclearly, the doubles had been designed to mirror the exact style of each real fighter, not a different one. Dont let them refocus! Asil shouted. Already, the false Asil tried to rush back toward the real Asil, but Abby appeared in a swirl of Shadow Dancer illusions, intercepting it. The twisted copys eyes widened, forced to guess how Abbys skillset operated. Meanwhile, the false Abby attempted to flicker behind Asil, but its guess at a Shadow Dancer angle only partially applied to Blade Dancer logic. It missed its strike, leaving Asil an opening. Abby seized that slight advantage first, weaving into a Shadow Dancer backstab that buried both daggers in the false Asils flank. An inky hiss of pain escaped the clone, its torso flashing between solid and intangible. The sinister grin cracked, replaced by a flicker of panic. Abby followed through with a quick combination of stabs, driving it backward. Asil, for her part, unleashed a raging Blade Dancer flurry upon Abbys doppelganger. That twisted image tried to vanish into ephemeral shadows, but Asils footwork confounded it. It had never studied Asils fluid arcs or well-timed parries, so it fumbled an ill-timed dodge. Flames of adrenaline surged in Asil as she delivered strike after strike. Eat this, she growled, finishing with an unstoppable chain that shattered the clones final guard. Within seconds, the once-deadly doppelgangers found themselves hammered from unexpected angles. Their attempt to revert to their original targets proved fruitless; Asil and Abby kept crossing paths, blocking the clones from realigning with their owners. The illusions sinister grins contorted into expressions of helpless frustration. Yes! Abby whooped, heart thrumming with adrenaline as the twisted Asil clone staggered under her repeated backstab lunges. She ducked a feeble slash, then pivoted her daggers in a final upward cross, eviscerating the doppelganger in a swirl of black haze. Meanwhile, Asil tore into the false Abbys last-ditch defense, slamming it with a finishing blow that ended in a hideous, hiss-like wail. Both doubles crumpled into a writhing mass of black smoke that disintegrated into the air. For a moment, Asil and Abby stood panting, the only sound of their ragged breathing and the soft sputter of torches. The corridor walls still echoed faintly with the illusions dying shrieks. Then silence dropped like a stone. Abby forced a wry laugh, stepping gingerly over the curling smoke. Thanks for the tipI was about a second from getting overshadowed by my own evil twin. Asil brushed damp hair off her forehead, exhaling shakily. I was about a second from losing to mine. She paused, a rueful smile edging her lips. Guess we owe synergy a break, huh? They exchanged a grinboth battered, sweat-streaked, but triumphant. The locked door now creaked open as if acknowledging the challenges defeat. The torches flickered, revealing a battered chamber finally at peace. Abby glanced at the swirl of black residue drifting from the copies final death throes. Cant believe we nearly got taken down by ourselves, she said softly. Asil rested a hand on Abbys shoulder, voice warm despite the exhaustion. But we beat em, right? A faint grin tugged at her lips. Id say were unstoppable as long as we dont get too predictable. They shared a short laugh, the tension easing from their limbs. Outside the corridor, the faint, continuing hush reminded them that this fortress was still full of unknown challengesand Jacks footprints lay farther ahead. But for the moment, they allowed themselves a burst of confidence and relief, stepping back into the hallway together. Ready to keep going? Asil asked, brow still glistening with perspiration. Abby took one more steadying breath, nodding. Im with you. Lets do itbut first we need to rest for a bit, that fight was intense They sat in the aftermath of the fight, backs against the cool stone, catching their breath. The silence that followed the death of their grinning twins was thick but not unwelcome. Both women sipped water from their pouches, cheeks flushed, muscles trembling with the rush of battle and relief. Asil wiped her brow and exhaled deeply. My journal says I just hit level 15. She scrolled through her updated skill tree with a hint of pride. Looks like Im earning double skill points now. These teen levels come with perks. Abby, peeking at her own reverberating journal, nodded absently. Same here. Then Asil added with a teasing smirk, You know, for a non-gamer, you''re getting really good at this. Abby flinched as if the compliment hit too close to home. Thanks, she said softly, her smile weak and distant. I just I don''t know. Some days I wonder if I''m adapting or breaking. She didnt say it aloud, but her thoughts drifted to her brother. Petros. A kid with wild eyes and a too-big heart. Trapped somewhere in this nightmare world, possibly alone. Who am I kidding, Abby muttered aloud, her voice tinged with wistful amusement. He''s probably in his version of heaven right now. Huh? Asil tilted her head. Abby shook it off. Nothing. Just... self-pity. I''m good. Asil reached over and patted her friends shoulder with a firm, grounding touch. Youre better than good, Abs. Youre surviving. She stood, stretching with a groan, and moved toward the chamber door. With both hands, she beckoned dramatically across the threshold. Shall we? Abby rose with a bounce, the earlier weight lifting just enough. We shall, she echoed, stepping ahead with a grin. They resumed their trek down the long corridor. Compared to the twisted rooms before, the remaining stretch of the hallway was surprisingly calm. But not uneventful. One door near the end was shut. Asil reached for it, distracted. Jack? she called into the room, her voice cracking with hopeful instinct. Waitno! Abby yelled, yanking her back just in time. A tall, shadowy figure stood just inside. Only Abby could see itits form blurred like smoke trying to imitate a person. Arms outstretched. A voicewet and distortedslithered through the crack in the door. Jack come home It wasnt Jack. The creature made a move forward, but Abby faked a swift lunge, and it recoiled, slithering back into the gloom. Then, the room shifted. Another figure appearedthis time calling to Abby. Its form was vaguely feminine, arms wide in invitation. Abigail why wont you hug your mother? The voice was warped as if it spoke through a fan blade. Abby frozejust for a second. But rage burned through hesitation. Nice try, she muttered. With a flick of her wrist, Fan of Blades exploded from her outstretched hands, daggers spinning into the mimic. It let out a screeching cry and disintegrated mid-lunge, leaving a greasy shadow in its wake. No more illusions, she hissed, not slowing as she marched forward. Asil, slightly stunned, offered a slow nod. Youve really come into your own, you know that? Still not a gamer, Abby replied, but Ive learned how to cheat a boss fight. They walked until the corridor opened wide into the final chambera vast cathedral-sized room, easily the size of a football field. Arched ceilings loomed high above. Pillars lined the sides like silent sentinels, casting long shadows beneath their carved edges. On the far end stood two exits: One, a simple wooden door, plain and familiar. The other, a grand obsidian gate, glowing faintly with shifting runescalling like a siren toward the next level of the dungeon. Their journals vibrated in unison. A choice etched on paper:
You have reached the threshold of the Shadow Gate. Proceed to the next level or exit and return later. (Wooden Door C Exit) (Shadow Gate C Descend)
Asil stared at the gate. Her heart pounded. That was where Jack had gone. She could feel it. Beyond those glyphs, beyond the veil hes out there. But she also knew the truth. Her hands werent steady. Her stamina was low. They had scraped through the doppelganger fight by a breath. This this trial was meant to take us to level 20, Asil murmured. Were not there yet. Not strong enough. Not ready. Abbys expression was soft but resolute. We should go back. Regroup in Hajill. Get stronger. She hesitated. Well find him, Asil. But not like this. Asil stood still for a long moment. Then she nodded. Without another word, they turned toward the wooden door. They stepped through together. On the other side, they found themselves at the entrance to Fort Warren, stepping once more into the eerie darkness of the Shadow Realms eternal dusk. Behind them, the door clicked softly shutno ominous boom, no magical glow. It''s just the end of one path, for now. Abby turned to Asil as they walked. You know, that gates not going anywhere. No, Asil said. Her eyes drifted back toward the fort. But next time we wont hesitate. She took one last look at the unassuming wood door that bore Jacks gamer tag, then turned. Together, they walked down the path toward Hajill, shadows behind them and a growing fire in their chests. The journey wasnt overit was only just beginning. Chapter 27: Wait! What? The path leading away from Fort Warren lay cloaked in unsettling silence, lined with crooked trees whose twisted branches stretched out like skeletal fingers grasping at the dim, misty air. The pallid half-light of the Shadow Realm enveloped Asil and Abby, lingering around them like a ghostly shroud. Initially, neither spokenot from unease, but sheer exhaustion. The dungeon had challenged more than their bodies; it had tested their resolve, their trust in one another, and even their grip on reality itself. Feels... different now, Abby finally murmured, breaking the silence. Her voice was quiet but carried clearly through the gloom. Like something''s shifted. It has, Asil replied softly, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. We have. Gradually, the oppressive aura of the dungeon faded behind them, replaced by subtle changes in their surroundingscrumbling stones giving way to moss-covered earth, tangled roots sprawling across their path. Abby kept glancing back, watching Fort Warrens dark silhouette shrink into the distance, its spires still piercing the veil of unnatural mist. They expected to find their companionsFrederick, Gideon, Eamon, or even the two recruitswaiting at the familiar waypoint where they''d camped just days before. But when they reached the clearing, only flattened grass, cold embers, and a solitary note pinned to a fallen log greeted them. A bone-handled knife anchored the message firmly in place. Abby carefully retrieved the note and passed it to Asil, who unfolded it. Lucia showed us the rootyou succeeded. We''re headed back to Hajill. Stay safe. I hope to see you both soon. Gideon Abby let out a tired chuckle. So Lucias a messenger now. Didnt expect that. Asil smiled faintly, the tension easing just slightly. More likely, she waited until wed finished the hard part before checking in. Smart wolf. The return journey toward Hajill proved harsher than either had anticipated. The once-familiar forest path now lay shrouded in deeper shadows, suggesting something sinister had awakened in their absence. Encounters with demons soon became frequentsleeker, more formidable beings with charcoal-gray flesh and eyes glowed fiercely like molten metal. These were no mere beasts; they attacked with calculated precision, moving in coordinated formations meant to trap and overwhelm. Yet Asil met each attack with newfound mastery. Her blades danced fluidly, flashing like silver lightning in the dimness, each movement a deadly blend of grace and precision. Abby, too, had evolved; slipping silently through the undergrowth, her daggers precise and lethal, dispatching foes swiftly. Her confidence as a rogue had blossomed into something formidable. But something else had changed. Pausing to catch her breath, Abby crouched beside a twisted tree root while Asil bandaged a shallow cut. A curious sensation tugged at Abbys sensesa gentle whisper at the edge of perception. Her eyes narrowed as they locked onto a nearby vine, covered in thorny purple leaves. Reaching out cautiously, she plucked a leaf, rubbing it thoughtfully between her fingers. Shadowcap, she murmured, almost to herself. From behind the tree, Asil raised an eyebrow. Are you just randomly naming plants now? NoI mean, yeah, I guessbut it''s more than that, Abby said, studying the plant with newfound fascination. The name popped into my head the moment I touched it. I think...I can sense herbs now. Like, identify them instantly, even tell if they''re toxic. Asil stepped into view, intrigued. That''s new. Another skill from your rogue class? Must be the Poison skill I unlocked earlier, Abby mused, carefully gathering several more sprigs into her pouch. Its almost as if the forest is speaking to me. She flashed Asil a playful smirk. Not in a creepy wayyet. From that point onward, they moved with greater caution. Battles grew fewer, and the forest gradually thinned, revealing glimpses of Hajills familiar banners fluttering above a distant rise. Just as relief began to seep into their tired limbs, a sleek black wolf burst forward from the shadows ahead. Immediately, the wolf pounced on Asil, showering her with enthusiastic licks as Abby stood aside, giggling. Amidst the playful chaos, the wolf smoothly shifted into her smaller Dachshund form, comfortably nestling into Asils arms. Together, the trio made their way back to the fort, their hearts growing anxious with every step at the thought of what awaited themespecially the uncertain news concerning Cressa. Geraldine met Asil and Abby at the gate, guiding them down the familiar, torch-lit corridors of Fort Hajill. Their boots echoed softly against the stone walls, each step heavy with memories and new burdens. Though they''d only been gone a week, it felt as if much more time had passed. Your wolf made it back to the fort, a bit worse for wear, Geraldine said warmly as they approached Cressas chamber. I found the root securely tied to her paw. You did well. They entered quietly, finding Cressa asleep. Eamon sat beside her, eyes red but dry, holding his sister''s hand. She looked peaceful, the pallor of illness lessened significantly. Cressas been in and out of consciousness, Geraldine explained gently. I was able to create and administer a counteragent using the root you provided. Shes still fighting the infection, but we believe the worst has passed. The rest is up to her now. Eamon rose to greet Asil and Abby, placing a grateful hand on each of their shoulders. Im sorry we left you behind, he apologized. Lucia paused just long enough to show us what she carried before sprinting off toward Hajill. I had to follow immediately, though I couldn''t keep pace. The others followed me back here shortly afterward, Eamon continued. Gideon mentioned leaving you a note. Asil and Abby nodded, approaching Cressas bedside. It was evident she was on the mend, breathing deeply and evenly. Come, lasses, Geraldine said gently. Loren and Bonvil await you in the war room. Lets leave the girl to rest. They quietly followed Geraldine out, leaving Eamon alone with his sister. As they walked, Abby turned to Geraldine, her curiosity piqued. Later, could you show me how you prepared the counteragent? Id like to learn if I''m going to start crafting my own poisons. Aye, lass, Geraldine responded without missing a beat. We used the last of the root, but Ill gladly show you the steps. They entered the war room, finding Loren intently studying a wide table etched with an updated regional map, notes, and markers scattered across its surface. Bonvil stood close by, his expression grave. Both men glanced up immediately as the women approached. Youre both a sight for sore eyes, Loren said warmly, relief evident in his voice. Bonvil nodded in agreement firmly. When you didn''t return with the others, we grew worried. But your team explained Lucia had been sent back with the root, and we figured there had to be a reason. We discovered signs of Jack deeper inside Fort Warren, Asil explained carefully. After securing the root from the courtyard, we sent Lucia ahead, hoping to catch up with Jack ourselves. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Abby continued solemnly, It turns out the Shadow Realm fully overtook Fort Warren. We had to navigate its dungeon. Asil nodded gravely. Jack was definitely there, but it looked like days or weeks had passed since he cleared the initial area. Loren motioned for them to join him at the table, making space amidst scattered reports. Tell us everything you saw in the dungeon. Asil recounted their experiencesthe burnt corpse of a Demogorgon, clear evidence of fierce battles, and rooms left in disarray. Jack cleared it, she explained. Or at least, the first section. Abby confirmed firmly, There was a carving on the main doorJAQOVHARTS. It was definitely his handiwork. The dungeon was empty, doors wide open, Asil continued. Whatever Jack encountered, he overcame. In the end, there was a grand gate, radiating immense magical pressure, stronger than anything weve felt so far. Loren exchanged a tense glance with Bonvil. That aligns with troubling reports from the north. Demon numbers are rising, becoming more organized and aggressive. Even goblins are growing bolder. Jack might be after the same threat, Asil proposed. But we can''t be certain yet. Bonvil stepped forward solemnly. We recently confirmed something deeply troublinga powerful, dark wizard has begun operating in the region. Scouts suggest hes connected to something ancient, something linked to the Demon God. Abby stiffened visibly. Connected how? Bonvils gaze met hers steadily. We believe he aims to free the Demon God. The room fell silent with dread. Hes already secured two potent artifacts from the Shadow Realm, Bonvil elaborated. Theyre weakening the barrier between realms significantly. Our texts hint there was a third, meant as anchors to keep Aerothane separated from the Shadow Realm. Are these artifacts keys? Abby asked quickly. Bonvil shook his head slowly. Not exactly keys. More like anchors or wards designed to hold the veil firmly in place. Removing them disrupts the balance. And the third artifact? Asil pressed urgently. Bonvil nodded gravely. The dark wizard seeks it, and every indication suggests its hidden deeper within that Shadow Realm dungeonthe one Jack passed through and you just left. Asil clenched her jaw tightly. We should have gone deeper. You werent ready, Loren reassured firmly. You saved Cressathat mattered greatly. But now, we must return quickly before this wizard secures the last anchor. What happens if he succeeds first? Abby asked softly. Bonvils voice turned grim. If he acquires all three artifacts, he can release the Demon God fully. Then we return immediately, Asil declared without hesitation. Abby echoed her resolve clearly, Together. Jon and I will head out again, Bonvil interjected decisively. We''ll search for Jack. We''ll need him in this fight if he''s truly as powerful as described. Asil nodded quietly, her voice momentarily lost. Help was welcome, of coursebut more than anything, she simply wanted her husband safely by her side once more.
Although eager to head out immediately, both Asil and Abby knew they needed to be stronger. The week following their return was dedicated to grinding levels and strengthening their party. Asil resumed her role in training the recruits at Fort Hajill. The group had grown thanks to Bonvil bringing in fresh bodies from nearby settlements. With Loren still recovering from his leg woundone that might never fully healBonvil had stepped in to assist with instruction during Asils absence. Despite his gruffness, the men respected him, and under his guidance, they quickly picked up advanced tactics and formation work. Abby, meanwhile, took a quieter path. She assisted Geraldine with daily chores and tutoring the forts orphansTobin and Serena. She spent hours guiding Serena through basic magical control, though the childs strange connection to the Source remained a mystery. In the afternoons, Abby wandered the forests with Geraldine to gather herbs. These excursions led to long hours at the alchemy table, where Geraldine shared what she knew of basic alchemy. Despite her humble expertise, Abby proved to be a natural. With help from Eamons advanced books and her own skill-based intuition, she rapidly surpassed Geraldine. Soon, she was concocting potent poisons, minor healing salves, and rudimentary stamina restoratives. Her proficiency grew quickly, and by weeks end, she had jumped three levels, now sitting confidently at level 17. Asil continued pushing herself. Between training drills, she led expeditions with her core groupLucia, Frederick, and Gideon. Fredericks crush remained obvious, even though Asil made her feelings for Jack abundantly clear. Nevertheless, the young man fought hard and showed promise. Together or alone, Asil hunted goblins near the fort and pushed back demons along the southern edge of the Dark Woods. Her aggressive approach paid off. She reached level 21 and watched as her weapons, armor, and skills leveled alongside her. On the sixth night, Asil and Abby finally found themselves in their quarters at the same time. It was the first chance theyd had in days to simply sit and talk. For weeks, they had been passing like ships in the nighttaking different watches, tending to separate tasks. I''m level Out there I They both started speaking at the same time and stopped, then burst into laughter. Despite the looming threat of the Dark Wizard and the urgency of their mission, for a moment they were just two friends. They collapsed onto Abbys bed, laughing uncontrollably. Asil reached over and took Abbys hand, pressing it to her chest. You first, she said with a warm smile. I hit level 20, Abby beamed. Level 22, Asil replied with a smirk. So were ready then? Abby asked, her tone turning serious. Level-wise, sure, Asil said. But emotionally? Im not ready to walk you into a death trap. Abby rolled to her side, still holding her hand. I know that wont comfort you, but I can hold my own. Oh, I know, Asil said, matching her movement and meeting Abbys gaze. Dont mistake my reluctance for doubt. Youve grown. More than I ever expected. Honestly its surprising. I missed that bratty version of me too, Abby said with a grin. Both of them burst into laughter again. For the first time in what felt like forever, it felt goodnormal. The next day, they met with Loren. Bonvil had still not returned, and there was no word of Jacks whereabouts. We cant wait any longer, Asil told the older man, voice resolute. We need to enter the second level. Loren looked like he wanted to argue. But he stopped himself. These women werent just soldiers anymorethey were leaders. Champions. And possibly Aerothanes best hope. Then may fortune favor you, he said. At least let the team escort you to Warren. They agreed, and at dawn the following day, they set out. The road to Fort Warren was surprisingly quiet. The occasional goblin or demon met their path, but between the patrols and Asils aggressive clearing, the region was far more secure. Still, both women knew it was a temporary reprieve. Without action, the darkness would rise againand this time, it would swallow everything. They said their farewells at the outskirts of Fort Warren. Only Lucia accompanied them past the gates. The wolf, now a formidable level 17, moved with grace and intelligence, her eyes glowing faintly with magical awareness. The trio passed through the outer gates, the courtyard eerily still. They crossed the open space and entered through the wooden door marking the first level of the dungeon. Asil paused at the threshold. Jacks gamer tag still marred the wooden surface, carved defiantly into the frame. JAQOVHARTS Jack of Harts, she whispered. He was here. They entered the familiar gauntlet, now silent. Doors that once held danger now hung open and empty. They moved swiftly through the corridors and stepped through the final portal. The chamber beyond had changed. The small exit door from before was gone. Only one thing remained: the massive gate. The gate. Abbys breath caught in her throat. Asils hand tightened around her sword. Lucia let out a low growl. The iron bars shimmered faintly, radiating the same oppressive energy they remembered. But stronger now. Deeper. Hungrier. This is it, Asil said softly. The gateway to the second level, Abby replied, eyes wide. Lucia stepped forward, her ears twitching. This isnt just a new floor, Asil said, her voice steady but low. This is a descent into something darker. They each reached out, clasping hands. Together, they stepped toward the gate. A pulse of energy rippled across the stone floor. The iron bars groaned, shifting slightly in their sockets. Magic gathered in the air, thick as fog. The Shadow Realm was waiting. And it had just opened its door.