The smoke curled from the border village's chimneys in the morning mist, mingling with the scent of flatbread. Karen leaned against the old locust tree at the village entrance, his Shadow Claws retracted, but the veins on his left neck still burned faintly. The system panel hovered in his mind: [Humanity Level: 75%. Corruption Level: 25%. No new skills unlocked.]
He needed water and food, and more importantly, answers about the balance runes. But as he stumbled toward the village, an old woman at the gate let out a terrified scream: "Monster! It's a cursed heretic!"
Chaos erupted instantly. Villagers grabbed hoes and sticks, their eyes filled with fear and hatred—just like the people who'd spat on him in the theocratic square three years ago. A boy held up a holy light totem, and its faint glow seared the curse's veins on Karen's neck.
"Get out! We don't welcome demons!" the village elder shouted, waving an ax, his weathered face resolute. "The theocracy says those cursed by shadow bring only destruction!"
Karen clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. He wanted to explain, to roar that he wasn't a monster, but his throat felt clogged. Three years of exile had taught him a bitter truth: once a label was stuck, it could never be removed.
As he turned to leave, a sharp screech pierced the sky. A dozen Carrion Vultures spread their massive wings, darkening the village like a storm cloud—their iron beaks glinted, drawn by the smoke and noise.
The villagers' screams turned to desperate cries. The boy's holy light totem was useless against the monsters, and the old woman collapsed in terror. Karen froze, torn between vengeance and duty: these people had just expelled him; he should walk away and let their prejudice destroy them.
But Elias' smiling face flashed before his eyes—"Brother, a knight's sword is for protection, not revenge."
Karen growled, and his Shadow Claws erupted again. He charged at the nearest vulture, slashing its wing, sending black feathers and blood raining down. The villagers stared, weapons hanging limply, as the man they'd called a "monster" defended them with shadow power.
"Get the elderly and children into the houses!" Karen's voice was hoarse but firm. "I'll handle the monsters!"
The elder hesitated for a moment, then shouted: "Hurry! Do as he says!"
There were too many vultures. Karen's strength faded, and a vulture attacked from behind, its beak tearing through his shoulder armor, blood gushing out. His Corruption Level spiked to 30%, the shadow veins spreading to his chest, sanity slipping.
[Warning: Corruption Level too high. Forced Attack Protocol imminent—Target: All nearby life signs.]
"No…" Karen gritted his teeth, shoving the vulture away. "I'm not… a monster…"
Suddenly, a golden rune beam shot out, hitting the attacking vulture. The monster screeched and dissolved into black smoke. Karen looked up to see an elf in a brown leather apron, holding a rune-engraved hammer, standing on a rooftop—his pointed ears had rune carvings, and his hammer glowed with balance rune light.
"Use this!" the elf shouted, tossing down a cloth embroidered with Five-Element balance symbols. "Press it to your curse!"
Karen caught the cloth instinctively, pressing it to his neck. A cool energy surged through him, dropping his Corruption Level to 22%, sanity returning. He met the elf's eyes, and the elf nodded, leaping down. His hammer swung, sending golden rune beams flying, each hitting a vulture's weak spot.
"I'm Elon!" the elf shouted as they fought. "That's my mother's balance rune cloth! Your curse is linked to the Balance Civilization!"
Karen's heart jolted. The Balance Civilization—the mysterious race only mentioned in ancient texts—was connected to his curse? He fought harder, his Shadow Claws and Elon's rune beams weaving a black-and-gold net, cutting down vultures one by one.
Half an hour later, the last vulture vanished. The village was in shambles, but no villagers had died. Karen collapsed to the ground, his shoulder bleeding, as Elon approached with herbs and bandages.
"Thank you," the elder said, stepping forward, shame etched on his face. "We… mistook you for a monster."
Karen shook his head, saying nothing. He stared at the balance rune cloth in Elon's hand, then touched the copper coin in his chest—a vague thought forming: perhaps this curse wasn't a punishment, but a key—to the truth of balance.
As Elon bandaged his wound, he pulled out a yellowed journal: "My mother was a master balance rune carver. She spent her life searching for Balance Civilization ruins. Your curse is a modified balance rune—someone wants to use it to control shadow energy."
On the journal's title page was a Five-Element symbol identical to the one on Karen's coin, with a note: "The Forge of Balance lies in the Central Continent, where shadow and holy light unite."
Theocratic hoofbeats echoed in the distance, closer than before. Elon tucked the journal away, pulling Karen up: "They'll never stop hunting you—or me. Come with me. We'll find the Forge of Balance, break your curse, and fulfill my mother's legacy."
Karen looked at Elon's determined eyes, then at the terrified villagers, and nodded slowly. He didn't know what dangers lay ahead, or if the Forge of Balance even existed—but he knew he was no longer alone.
The two walked into the morning mist, shadow and rune light intertwining behind them, like a ray of hope cutting through the Shattered Continent's darkness.