Chapter 11 – The First Steps
Adrian stepped out of the house, his eyes scanning the destruction stretched out before him. The air hung heavy with dust and silence, broken only by the occasional creak of twisted metal or the faint whisper of wind brushing over shattered stone. Once majestic structures lay in ruins—crumbled temples, shattered towers, and scorched statues that hinted at a divine presence now long gone.
"What kind of war could destroy the being who created all this?" he muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper, swallowed by the eerie stillness of the forsaken realm.
Beneath his feet, the cracked earth was scorched, as if the land itself had once been engulfed in divine fire. Faint celestial symbols glowed dimly beneath the rubble, remnants of a magic that once shaped this place. The air felt dense, thick with forgotten power—and hidden dangers.
"Adrian, let's move!" Cordelia's voice broke through his thoughts. She stood a few steps ahead, ready and alert. Her cloak fluttered softly in the breeze, the edges of her tunic stained and worn from days spent navigating the ruins. Her sharp eyes scanned the horizon without pause.
"I'm coming," Adrian called, quickening his pace to catch up. His footsteps crunched on broken stone and debris.
"How long have you been here?" he asked as he walked behind her, curiosity pulling at his voice.
"A month," Cordelia replied, steady but heavy with experience. "Feels like a lifetime."
Adrian imagined the loneliness and danger she must have faced, surviving in this hostile divine domain. Her calm confidence suddenly made more sense. She had adapted to a world where threats lurked behind every broken wall.
Suddenly, a low, guttural growl echoed through the air.
"What was that?" Adrian's eyes narrowed as he turned toward the sound.
In the distance, a group of soldiers appeared—like the ones who attacked them before—assembled near a ruined castle. They moved with rigid precision, clad in rusted armor that pulsed faintly with unnatural light. The ground around them shimmered with corrupted magic.
Cordelia motioned silently. "Looks like they've regrouped over there. Stay quiet and follow me."
She slipped through the ruined streets with the grace of a shadow. Adrian followed, careful to place his steps exactly where she did. The broken city offered cover—collapsed walls, crumbling arches, and toppled buildings became their hiding spots. Yet the looming castle cast a cold shadow, draining warmth from the air.
Cordelia glanced back, eyes sharp and calculating. "For now, we're safe."
Adrian hesitated. "Wouldn't it be easier for you to just use your powers and wipe them out?"
Cordelia's voice turned cold and firm. "Adrian, those soldiers are weaklings—just pawns for whatever rules that castle. If I kill too many, I risk drawing its attention. And if we don't know its power... we're all dead."
Her words sank in. Adrian swallowed hard, understanding the weight behind her caution.
"Got it," he said, meeting her serious gaze.
I got carried away after beating those two soldiers, he thought. Cordelia's right. This place is deadly. One wrong move and it's over.
He looked up at the towering castle. A chill ran down his spine.
This was built by a god...
His hand instinctively touched the diary in his satchel—the same item that had protected him before.
Will its protection work here? Or will I be killed before it can even activate?
Cordelia broke through his thoughts. "You understand now, right? I'll go left, you take right. Search for any clues. We meet back here in four hours—before night falls."
She sprang onto a rooftop and disappeared from view, moving like a silent shadow.
Adrian watched her go, awe mixing with a twinge of worry. She was so skilled, so sure. He knew he still had much to learn.
"Alright... let's find those clues," he whispered, turning toward a cluster of ruined houses.
The buildings were blackened and lifeless, walls charred by fire and time. Adrian stepped carefully over fallen beams and shattered furniture. Around him lay the graveyard of a divine world.
He entered one house, searching old drawers and broken chests. Nothing but dust.
Another—only bones and ash.
He stopped to eat some dry bread and sip water from his flask. The bland taste steadied his nerves.
"How long have I been searching?" he wondered. Two hours already.
The sun—or what passed for it—barely penetrated the cloudy sky, casting a twilight gloom over everything.
Adrian moved slowly, cautiously, until a faint glow caught his eye.
A soft, pulsing light seemed to call him forward. Gentle, yet insistent.
He approached the source—an abandoned house with its door ajar, creaking softly in the wind.
Inside, he found a skeleton slumped over a table. Before it, a glowing stone bathed the room in a cool blue light. Dust floated in the air like mist, silence holding the space.
His heart quickened as he stepped closer.
This must be the power stone Cordelia mentioned...
The stone shimmered rhythmically, almost as if it were breathing.
Just beneath it, a yellowed note lay tucked carefully.
Adrian picked it up, eyes wide as he read.
"This is..."