Chapter 4 – The Oath of Revanak
The dim glow inside the cave cast long shadows across the rough stone walls.
John leaned against the cool rock, breath ragged, lungs still burning from the run. The silence pressed in like a weight — heavy, absolute.
Beside him, the woman studied him with those keen green eyes that seemed to drink in every flicker of light. Her hair clung to her face in tangled strands, but her composure was unnerving — calm, steady, almost regal.
"You really have no idea where you are, do you?" she finally said, voice soft but edged with curiosity.
John gave a faint, crooked smile. "I'm definitely not from around here. One minute I was… somewhere else. Then this whole System thing started showing words in my head — and now I'm running from giant spiders."
The woman tilted her head slightly, as if confirming a suspicion. "I guessed as much. You're not the first outsider to appear since the merging began. We're in a realm called Aetheria — and more precisely, the Forgotten Forest. One of the most dangerous regions in this realm."
John let out a low breath and glanced around at the jagged stone walls. "Great. Dropped straight into the worst place imaginable."
A small smile touched her lips. "Seems the world has a sense of humor. But you survived. That already sets you apart."
She paused before continuing, her tone softening. "I suppose I should properly introduce myself. I'm Tamara."
"John," he said, nodding in return. "So, Tamara… what were you doing out here, if it's so dangerous?"
Her gaze drifted toward the flickering shadows deeper in the cave. "Exploring," she said simply. "There are things about this world — even for those of us born here — that remain… uncertain. And when the realms merged, many old boundaries broke. Forests like this began swallowing what was left of ancient lands."
Something in her tone made John think she was holding back, but he didn't press. The tension of their escape slowly faded, replaced by a cautious curiosity.
Then — a faint pulse of light shimmered deeper within the cave.
John straightened. "Do you see that?"
Tamara nodded, already stepping forward. "Light doesn't belong in a place like this. Let's take a look."
They followed the glow through a narrow passage. The further they went, the colder the air grew. When they reached the end, the light revealed its source — and both of them froze.
A skeleton slumped against the far wall, its armor blackened and half-fused with stone. One bony hand still gripped a spear that glowed faintly, its metal untouched by decay. On its finger gleamed a silver ring, faintly pulsing with an inner light.
Tamara knelt, her voice dropping to a whisper. "These aren't ordinary relics. The craftsmanship… this is pre-Merge. At least a thousand years old."
John crouched beside her. "And the ring?"
She carefully slid it from the skeleton's finger. "It's a storage ring — an artifact that holds space inside itself. They're rare, even among the upper worlds."
Before she could say more, the air in the cave shifted. The faint light from the spear swelled — and a ghostly form began to rise from the bones.
John stumbled back as a shimmering figure took shape — a man in cracked armor, his face worn and tired but proud. His voice was a whisper of echoing steel.
"So… another soul has found my resting place."
Tamara froze. "A spirit…"
The apparition turned its hollow gaze to John.
"I am Eryndor, Knight of the Kingdom of Revanak. I fell here long ago, defending my homeland against the beasts that came when the skies first cracked. My body perished… but my vow endures."
His ghostly eyes drifted to the spear. It blazed briefly, casting light through the entire cavern.
"Return this spear to Revanak — to the throne it once served — and you shall inherit what remains of my legacy. The ring, the knowledge within, all will be yours. But fail…"
The air grew cold. His voice hardened.
"…and the Light you gather will scatter to the void."
Golden words shimmered before John's eyes — silent, as if written across his thoughts.
[Artifact Detected: Spear of Revanak – F-Tier Relic]
[Linked Item: Revanak Heirloom Ring]
[Challenge Issued – Return the Spear to the Ancient Kingdom of Revanak]
[Reward: Ownership of the Ring and All Contained Knowledge]
[Accept Challenge? Y / N]
John stared, his throat dry. "It's offering me a choice."
Tamara's gaze flicked to the spirit. "Revanak… that kingdom hasn't existed for centuries. Its capital lies beyond the Northern Rift — days of travel through corrupted land."
John exhaled slowly. "So basically a death wish."
Still, something inside him stirred. He wasn't sure if it was courage or recklessness — only that it felt right. For the first time since he'd arrived, he had direction.
He closed his eyes and focused on the glowing prompt. Yes.
The spear flared, light searing across the chamber. The ghost's armor gleamed once more, his form solidifying for an instant.
"Then our paths are bound, outsider. Bear the spear, and carry my vow where I could not. When Revanak rises again, your name shall be written beside mine."
The light burst outward — and the spirit vanished.
John lowered the spear slowly. Its weight felt strange — not heavy, but alive, humming faintly with warmth. The ring glimmered beside him, waiting. He slipped it onto his finger, and a pulse of energy traveled up his arm. For a moment, his vision expanded — and he saw into the ring's space.
Inside the void floated two tomes.
One bore a crimson sigil shaped like a flame — "Foundations of Alchemy."
The other radiated faint golden light — "Constructing the Light Core."
A faint notification flickered in his vision.
[Partial Reward Granted: Ring Access Level 1 – Manuals Unlocked]
[Full Reward Sealed Until Objective Completion]
He let out a slow breath, looking up at Tamara. She stared at the relics with quiet awe.
"It seems," she said softly, "that fate favors you, John. Revanak is no myth — and you've just inherited one of its ghosts."
He managed a small, tired grin. "Guess I'm a delivery man now."
Tamara's lips curved faintly. "A very dangerous one."
He looked at the spear — its faint runes glowing like veins of sunlight. Somewhere beyond this cursed forest, the spirit's homeland waited.
He tightened his grip on the weapon, the weight of the vow settling into his chest.
"Then we'll return it," he said quietly. "Even if we have to walk through hell."
Tamara nodded once, and together they turned toward the mouth of the cave, where dawn's faint light filtered through the mist.
Behind them, the last trace of the spirit's voice lingered — soft as dust, but eternal.
"Remember, Bearer of Revanak… the Light remembers those who honor their oaths."