The alley
falls silent, steam rising from the soaked cobblestones. Grinmaker's body lies
motionless at the far end, partially buried under debris and glowing water. Wei
breathes heavily, as he steps forward to confirm the kill, he hears clapping.
Slow.
Mocking.
From the
shadows, a group of masked figures emerge—rogues cloaked in black and gold,
with daggers at their sides and glowing runes on their wrists.
"You
really did it," one of them says with a grin. "You took down the
Shrouded Hollow's champion. Now you've got the whole city's attention."
Wei narrows
his eyes. "I didn't come here to entertain."
Another
figure steps forward, holding an ornate scroll in his hand.
"But
you did entertain… the Goddess herself."
The air
grows colder. Above them, a rune circle ignites in the sky, shimmering in
divine blue light.
"You've
triggered something much bigger than this city, Wei," the figure
continues. "The goddess has seen your strength—and now she wants to test
your soul."
Wei lowered
his blade slightly, his breathing steady, his eyes locked on the masked figure
with the scroll.
"What kind
of test are we talking about?" he asked cautiously.
The masked
figure stepped closer, handing the scroll to Wei without a fight. "This isn't a
challenge," he said. "It's an invitation."
Wei
unrolled the scroll. Elegant golden ink shimmered on ancient parchment. The
writing pulsed faintly as if alive:
---
To the
warrior who commands the torrent and bears the soul of balance—
The Goddess
has taken notice.
A place
awaits you at the Obsidian Summit.
Accept, and
rise beyond mortal bounds.
Refuse, and
remain hunted by gods and kings alike.
—The Voice
of the Veil
---
Wei
narrowed his eyes. "And if I don't go?"
The masked
figure smiled beneath his hood. "Then everything you saw here—Lenor, the
Shrouded Hollow, even your path back to the human world—will remain out of
reach. You'll keep running. Keep killing. Keep surviving."
"But if I
accept?"
"You gain
an audience with the Goddess herself… and possibly the power to change your
fate."
Wei looked
around. Grinmaker's body twitched once—then dissolved into black ash, swept
away by wind like a warning.
He clenched
the scroll, then glanced at the sky, where the divine rune still glowed.
"…Tell your
goddess," Wei said, "I'll be there."
The masked
figure bowed. "Then the path shall open at moonrise."
As the
masked envoy vanished into the shadows, Wei turned his attention back toward
the merchant who had first made the offer—a teleportation scroll in exchange
for Grinmaker's head.
The streets
buzzed with tension as Wei approached the crooked stall, where the hooded
merchant awaited, hidden among crates of arcane junk and black-market trinkets.
"You held
up your end," the merchant said, glancing toward the smoke rising from Black
Alley. "Grinmaker's gone."
Wei folded
his arms. "The scroll?"
The
merchant didn't speak—he motioned instead. "Not here. Too many ears."
Wei
hesitated, then followed him through a side alley, down rusted steps behind a
ruined smithy.
Inside the
smith are lit by cracked lanterns with
strange alchemical flames bolted on the walls.
"That
scroll you want? It exists… but not the way you were told. The Veil isn't a
door—it's a prison. The scroll is a key… but the Goddess decides who gets one."
Wei's eyes
narrowed. "Then how did you learn this?"
"I was once
her servant," the merchant said bitterly. "Until I found what she was hiding.
There are others like me—rebels, exiles. You want freedom? You'll need them."
He slid the
Veilstone across the table.
Wei picked
it up, feeling its weight. "So I don't need her permission?"
"No," the
merchant said. "But you'll need strength, allies… and you'll have to defy a
god."
"Defy
a god? Well I am curios, which one do you think is much easier to cut down? Is
it the goddes? Or the guardian at the portal that leads to my world?:
The
merchant chuckled darkly, the firelight glinting in his eyes. "Cutting down a
goddess? That blade of yours better be more than sharp—it better be ancient,
cursed, or blessed by something older than the stars. But between the two… the
Guardian at the Portal is flesh and bone. The goddess? She's woven into the
magic of this realm."
"So, the
Guardian is the first wall," Wei muttered, more to himself.
"Exactly,"
the merchant said. "Slay him, and the portal opens. But do it quickly. The
moment he falls, she'll know. And she will come."
Wei
smirked. "Then I'd better make it count."
The
merchant leaned closer. "Before you go storming gates—there's someone you need
to meet. An exile. A mage who once served at her side. He knows her magic… and
how to bend it."
"Where?"
"In the
Deadroot Marsh, beyond the Wailing Pines. He goes by one name now: Ashveil."
"Wait,
how would I know that this exile is a trust worthy? Also what is this veilstone
you gave me? Does it carry any magic?
The
merchant's eyes narrowed, "Trust is a luxury we can't afford, Wei. But Ashveil…
he chose exile over blind loyalty. That makes him more honest than most."
He tapped
the Veilstone gently. A faint hum pulsed from it, responding to his touch.
"As for
this—yes, it's magic. Ancient. It's a fragment of the Veil itself. With it,
you'll be able to sense the goddess's influence, pierce illusions, and in time…
resist her commands."
Wei turned
the Veilstone in his hand, feeling the low vibration ripple through his fingers
like a heartbeat.
The
merchant continued, voice low. "Be warned—it draws attention. You carry it too
long, and the goddess will know. That's why you need Ashveil. He can teach you
how to use it without being found."
Wei
smirked. "So… Deadroot Marsh it is."
The
merchant nodded grimly. "Follow the path through the Wailing Pines. Stay off
the main road. And if the wind starts whispering your name… run."
"Oh, I
almost forgot! I was told the guardian's level is around 9999. I guess I need
to level up like crazy—or gather more allies—before I even think about going
after that guardian, let alone looking for Ashveil."
The
merchant gave a dry chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "Level 9999? Then
you'd need more than just allies—you'd need an army, or a miracle."
He leaned
back, crossing his arms. "But you're thinking like a fighter. That guardian was
made to stop brute force. Ashveil… he doesn't fight with muscle. He bends the
rules of this world—twists them. That's why you need him first. He might not
kill the guardian for you, but he'll show you where to strike so you don't have
to die trying."
Wei sighed
and glanced at the glowing Veilstone in his hand.
"Alright
then… I'll find Ashveil. But if I somehow get strong enough to cleave that
guardian in half before I meet him, I'm not holding back."
The
merchant gave a thin smile. "That's the spirit. Just don't forget—the Veil is
watching now. Every step you take… she'll feel it."
Wei
tightened his grip on the stone and turned toward the exit of the ruined smithy.
"Let her
watch. I'm done hiding."
Wei tucked the Veilstone into his satchel, tightening the
straps. He stepped outside into the grim light of The Shrouded Hollow. The
city's twisted towers and smoke-filled alleys seemed smaller now, less
threatening—perhaps because something greater loomed ahead.
He headed to the nearest supply quarter, bartering for food,
potions, and a fresh map. The vendor, a hooded woman with reptilian eyes, slid
the map across the table. "No one returns from the Marsh unchanged," she
whispered. "If they return at all."
Wei smirked. "Then I'll just have to make sure I do."
He whistled once. A loud screech echoed from above—and
Garbaru, his loyal bird mount, descended with a flutter of wings and a rough
landing on the cobblestones.
Wei climbed onto Garbaru's back. "Alright, buddy. Let's head
north, past the Wailing Pines."
The wind howled as they rose above the Shrouded Hollow.
Below, the ruined city faded behind them, swallowed by fog.
Hours passed. The forest below thickened. Gnarled trees
clawed at the sky, and the sun dimmed behind stormy clouds. Ahead, the land
changed. Water pooled in strange formations. Fog crept low over the ground.
Deadroot Marsh lay before them—silent, decaying, and alive
with secrets.
Wei exhaled and tightened his grip. "Ashveil… I hope you're
real."
Garbaru began his descent, spiraling toward a narrow
clearing where black roots twisted like veins across the wet soil.
The Marsh had begun to whisper.
Garbaru's talons touched down on the slick, moss-covered
ground. The bird gave a low, uneasy squawk, wings folding in close to its
sides. Thick fog curled around Wei's legs as he dismounted, and a putrid stench
filled the air—a mix of damp earth, rotting foliage, and something older…
fouler.
Wei unsheathed his blade, its glowing edge casting a faint
blue shimmer through the mist.
"Stay close, Garbaru," he murmured.
The Marsh was unnaturally quiet. No birds, no wind. Just the
sound of water dripping… and something faint, like breathing, coming from
everywhere and nowhere.
Wei stepped cautiously forward. Gnarled roots coiled along
the path like dead serpents. The deeper he went, the thicker the silence
became—until it was broken.
Snap.
A twig.
Wei spun toward the sound, blade raised—but saw nothing.
Then, suddenly, movement. A dark shape slithered between the
trees—low, fast.
Another figure rose up from the water behind him, its form
cloaked in vines and mud. Red eyes blinked open in the gloom.
Bogstalkers.
Wei moved fast, slicing through the first creature just as
it lunged. His blade surged with boiling water, cutting the monster in half
with a hiss of steam. But more were coming. Dozens. Emerging from the shadows,
creeping out from the muck.