The following few days were pretty uneventful.
Apollo made it to the next coral, and made plans to reach a stone outcropping not too far away.
Through the past few days he continued to train his body, getting accustomed to the differences. Before his last death he was 27, his body much more matured and muscular. After regressing he was back in a teenage body which was very weak in comparison.
However it wasn't his first rodeo, so it only took a few days to get accustomed.
In that time, he'd taken down six more Carapace Scavengers. Including the original trio, that brought his total to nine.
Curious about his progress, he focused his will and pulled up his runes.
Light Core: Dormant
Soul Essence: 42/1000
Each scavenger granted four points of essence. The number was still meager, but the accumulation was steady. And already, he could feel the difference. His strikes were just a bit faster, his steps a touch lighter. The soul essence pulsed faintly inside him, like kindling before a blaze.
While reviewing the runes, something new caught his attention.
A memory.
He hadn't noticed it before—likely missed the spell's announcement during the chaos—but now it glowed softly among his soul-bound assets.
Memories: [Azure Armor]
Now, it had his full attention. Summoning the armor, he watched as a few sparks of essence began forming into a small set of armor. The armor looked lightweight, made of blue steel. Here and there small spikes were situated but other than that there was no remarkable features to it. After giving a glance at the armor he then looked at the runes.
[Azure Armor]
Memory Rank: Awakened
Memory Tier: I
Memory Type: Armor
Memory Description: On this forgotten shore, only steel remembers.
Like its appearance, there wasn't much to the runes. The description was short but slightly unsettling, paying homage to where it came from.
The armor wouldn't offer much protection against most threats within the dream realm being an awakened tier—but any armor was always better than none at all. And after several days of trekking around half-naked, Apollo was more than grateful. At the very least, it took away the discomfort of spawning with nothing but his skin.
Moving on from himself he focused on Serpents progress.
Spirit Name: Soul Serpent
Spirit Consumption Rate: 4/100
Each Scavenger consumed had given Serpent 1 point within its consumption rates.
Summoning the snake to his soul sea he watched as the little snake crawled forward, there wasn't much of a difference to its appearance however, it was slightly longer and its scales were a bit darker now. The difference only noticeable to the extremely trained eye.
That was part of what made his Soul Serpent so unique. In extraordinarily rare cases, it could absorb traits from consumed enemies—folding their essence into its own design. The darker sheen to its scales hinted at hardened plating, a reflection of the scavenger's shell.
Although present, the difference didn't amount to much as of right now. However one day in the future it would be substantial.
Having looked everything over Apollo focused his attention back to the world in front of him.
It was early morning. The light of a distant, dying star crept slowly across the horizon, illuminating the twisted reef and black waters of the Forgotten Shore. The tide had begun to pull back, the surf whispering its retreat across the pale sand.
As soon as the water was gone, he would need to move.
Now, you're probably wondering—why the rush?
To explain, one has to understand how the Forgotten Shore operates.
Each solstice, a new batch of sleepers is brought to this cursed corner of the Dream Realm. This year, only seven had been summoned: Nephis, Cassia, Sunless, Han Li Caster, Apollo—and two others whose identities remained a mystery.
That is, until recently.
After hundreds of regressions, Apollo had finally discovered the location of one of the two unknowns.
He stared out across the dead sea, toward a rising stone outcropping at the edge of the horizon. What once appeared as a minor cliff above water now loomed into view, revealed by the receding tide. A massive bluff of fractured gray rock.
And it was on this very bluff that another sleeper had spawned, just like Apollo and the others.
Through much trial and error he had realized that on the 5th day in the Forgotten Shore a dire foe would appear on the mountain, lured in by the smell of a human soul. A Carapace Centurion.
The sleeper, tired, hungry, and weak was unable to survive the encounter alone. But together, with Apollos help he could survive. And if Apollo knew anything about the dream realm it was that you can not survive alone, any other fighter was an increase in power and survivability, meaning at this current point saving said sleeper was his top priority.
But none of that mattered if Apollo was unable to make it to the bluff in time.
Watching the familiar sight of the waves rescinding, Apollo steeled his resolve and made his way down the coral. There was no time to waste.
This was one of the most treacherous parts of his early journey, as he could not wait for the scavengers to find corpses. He had to move as they surfaced.
Of course, he knew the most optimal route to take, encountering only a few scavengers along the way. Not wanting to waste any time he either quickly dispatched of them or simply ran past them, weaving through the labyrinth of coral.
Eventually he reached a new zone, the mud here was thicker and there were much less scavengers, a fact that had once brought him hope. However he knew better now. The reduced number was not due to luck but rather, they were either hiding or had been killed by the Centurion.
It was just reaching the afternoon. If time even existed in this place, it would be about 4pm.
Apollo had just reached the base of the cliff and he needed to pick up the pace. Above, he could hear the sounds of battle, mixed with the occasional screech and scream in pain.
Rushing, he expertly mantled up the cliff, grabbing onto small outcroppings before launching himself upwards towards the next. From one to the next he shot up the cliff, straining all of the muscles within his body, the sooner he reached the top, the better shape the sleeper would be in.
Just as he was about to reach the top, he had a bad premonition.
He looked up—just in time to spot a boulder tumbling down toward him, flung from the cliff edge above. He threw himself sideways onto another ledge, his body slamming into rock, breath catching in his lungs. Without pause, he resumed the climb.
By the time he reached the top, the scene was chaos.
In front of him lay multiple dead carapace scavengers, a young boy bleeding profusely from a grave wound, and a large monster that looked similar to the scavengers.
The Centurion was just like the scavengers, only bigger, stronger, and much more deadly. Sporting two scythes as arms, swinging with serious intent to kill.
As he reached the top he watched on as the sleeper tried to dodge an incoming attack, only to be too slow, the attack connecting, sending him flying into a stone wall a few meters behind his previous position.
The boy looked up in horror, a deep blend of fear and anxiety evident within his expression. The Centurion wasted no time, rushing towards him, swinging it's arm down in a brutal arc, aiming to kill the boy.
However just at the last second a pristine blade with a golden handle flew from the heavens. The sword struck its target fast and true, lodging into the stone just below the scythe. Subsequently a loud clang rang out as the scythe clashed against the blade. Although not enough to stop the attack, the clash changed the course of the scythe, now biting into rock instead of the delectable flesh of a human.
The boy flinched at the sound, his ears ringing. He looked up, his gaze drawn past the weapon and toward its source.
There, standing at the edge of the cliff, was a young man—around six feet tall, framed by the lowering haze of dusks light. His platinum blonde hair fell to his shoulders in smooth waves, shifting gently in the wind. A sleek set of deep-blue armor clung to his form, patterned subtly with lines that mimicked the plates of a carapace scavenger.
His most striking feature, his golden eyes which seemed to emit a glow.
Whether the glow was real or merely a trick of the light, the boy couldn't tell. All he knew was that this stranger had saved his life. And he did not intend on wasting his second chance.
He shot up to his feet, Sprinting towards the only safe direction, away from the evolved creature before him. He only made it a couple steps before he heard a loud screech behind him, the creature seemingly enraged with its failure to kill him.
He watched as it once again swung down its scythe-like arm towards the golden blade lodged within the stone, its intention clear. To destroy the weapon capable of taking its attack.
But just before the blade could be struck, something impossible happened.
The weapon moved.
It twitched, then slithered—as if alive—dislodging itself from the rock and twisting mid-air into the form of a small golden snake. The creature's scythe slammed into empty stone with a thunderous crack.
At the same time there was a blinding flash of light. The last thing he saw, the Centurion quickly covering its eyes.
And then, his whole world turned white.