An Emergency Rift?
It was the kind of thing that only showed up in fiction. Rare, high-risk, borderline catastrophic. Like hell it would appear on Tave's first Rift Expedition. That kind of ridiculous twist only happened in books written by authors who enjoyed tormenting their own protagonists.
But this... this wasn't fiction.
This was real.
Tave let out a breath and smiled faintly to himself. Then, without hesitation, he stepped into the swirling vortex.
And… Whoaaa!
His body was yanked forward and spun violently through a twisting, echoing void. It felt like being flung across a bottomless pit, thrown around by invisible currents in a hollow dimension that had no up, no down. His scream tore through the darkness, lost in the roar of the vortex as shadows swallowed him whole.
And then… crack! He was thrown loose.
The crushing grip of energy snapped away, and a sudden blast of light assaulted every inch of his senses. His voice, still caught in the scream, was flung free into the open space he now landed in.
Tave hit the ground hard and scrambled to stabilize his footing. The earth beneath him was scorched and blackened. The air was thick and dry, heat pulsing in waves that stung against his skin.
He lifted his head.
Lily was already standing in front of him, arms crossed, clearly having arrived a moment earlier. Her expression was unreadable. But one thing was certain. She'd heard him scream.
"...What?" he muttered, looking at her like he had nothing to explain.
"That," he said, gesturing vaguely back toward his back, "that scream was probably from someone else still stuck in the teleportation process. Not just me."
Lily stared at him, her face completely flat.
She didn't respond.
She didn't need to respond.
Her silence said it all.
At that moment, a glowing notification flickered into view in front of him:
[ Welcome to Shattered Ember Rift – Tier 3 ]
Tave exhaled, the tension in his chest loosening slightly.
Good. A standard Rift! A freaking normal Rift!
This was manageable. All he had to do was find the good spot to summon the spirit, awaken the relic, then complete the Rift. After that, the path to the forest elves of Vensalor would open. Simple. Straightforward.
Except… He glanced around.
There was no one else.
Just him.
And Lily.
His brows pulled together. "Where are the others?" he asked.
No answer yet.
But something was definitely wrong.
"There was no one here when I arrived," Lily said, eyes scanning the darkened treeline. "And…" she trailed off.
Tave frowned, finishing the thought for her. "Everyone who enters the same Rift should land nearby. So they must be around here. Close."
He swept his gaze over their surroundings again. It looked more like a charred forest than anything else. Trees blackened and cracked by flame, yet still standing. The ground beneath their feet shimmered faintly, like scorched rock laced with old lava flow. In several places, glowing embers pulsed faintly, tiny rivers of magma veining through the soil.
Far in the distance, a massive volcanic mountain loomed against the dusky sky, its peak spitting faint trails of smoke. That would likely be the perfect summoning point.
But something else tugged at Tave's senses.
He inhaled sharply, catching a shift in the air.
A sound.
He turned his head just as Fang emerged from the swirling Rift behind them. The beast shook its coat, tail flicking once, and then froze. Ears up. Nose twitching.
Tave's eyes narrowed.
Fang had sensed it too.
Both of them turned instinctively toward the same direction.
A scream rang out, sharp, panicked, unmistakable.
What the hell was happening over there?
"…Let's go," Tave said, breaking into a run.
Lily and Fang followed without hesitation.
The sound grew clearer as they rushed forward. Shouts, grunts, the clash of steel. Male voices. Female. Confused. Aggressive.
They broke through the treeline just as the chaos sharpened into clarity.
In a small open clearing, several figures stood gathered, members of their squad. Tave recognized them instantly, even amidst the tension. But something was wrong. The air crackled with something more than just Rift energy.
"What's going on?!" Tave called out, rushing forward with Lily at his side.
At the center of it all stood Orion and the blonde-haired man from earlier, locked in a tense, silent standoff. Their bodies were angled like they were seconds away from violence. Oriana stood nearby, eyes flicking between the two, tension riding her shoulders like a weight.
The others lingered around the edges, watchful, uncertain.
Then Tave caught the scent.
Blood.
His head snapped to the side… and froze.
One of the squad members.
Pinned to a tree.
His body hung limp, pierced clean through the chest by a sword still embedded in the trunk behind them. Blood ran down the blade in thick, slow rivulets. The placement was exact, through the heart.
Tave's breath caught.
What the hell happened here?
His eyes darted back to the confrontation in the clearing.
All tension now rested in the space between the sword and a death that demanded an answer.
"Like hell this happened the moment we stepped into the Rift, Orion!" Oriana's voice rang out, sharp and furious. Tave had heard her shouting even from the treeline minutes ago.
Orion didn't even flinch.
"What kind of bullshit is that, throwing accusations at me?" he snapped, his tone crackling with contempt. "Like I'd bother dirtying my hands killing an insignificant piece of trash like that."
He pointed a single sharp jab of his finger toward the corpse pinned brutally to the tree.
Tave's eyes followed the gesture.
The sword was unmistakable.
His gaze flicked from the blood-soaked hilt embedded in the dead man's chest… to the blonde-haired young man standing nearby, gripping a sword of his own, still drawn, still poised.
And then to Orion. Who stood empty-handed.
It wasn't just any sword sticking out of that corpse.
It was Orion's sword!
"That's your sword!" Oriana hissed. "How the hell do you deny it when it's clearly your fucking sword stuck in that body?!"
Orion clenched his jaw, muscles in his face tightening as he continued to stare not at Oriana, but at Elias, the blond.
Tave recognized the unspoken fury building in his eyes.
"Should I kill this idiot too?" Orion growled through clenched teeth. "Would that make the story easier? Just blame him and tie it up neatly?"
The implication was clear.
He was accusing Elias.
The man in question, Elias, gave a slight, almost amused smile. His fingers remained firm on the hilt of his weapon, posture relaxed but ready, like a serpent coiled to strike.
"Elias!" Oriana barked, her voice more commanding now. "Tell me, what the hell happened here?!"
The clearing fell silent.
Everyone was watching. Tense. Uncertain. Even Oriana's usual poise faltered under the weight of what they were seeing.
Tave stayed still, mind racing. Trying to piece it together.
From what he could gather, the rest of the squad had arrived at the scene to find this… Orion and Elias were already here. One of their own pinned to a tree, dead, with Orion's sword through his chest. No one had seen what actually happened. No one knew who struck the blow.
But everyone knew one thing, that sword didn't stab itself.
"Elias!" Oriana snapped again.
The blond-haired man finally lifted his head, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable. His voice came low, calm… Almost too calm.
"What kind of scenario," he said slowly, "would lead you all to think I'm the one at fault?"
"What are you talking about?" Oriana shot back, her tone tightening with frustration.
Elias tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting toward the corpse still hanging from the tree.
"I mean, isn't it ridiculous that this is even a question?"
Everyone's attention locked onto him now. No one said a word.
And then, his voice dropped to a cold, cutting murmur.
"A sword through the heart of a man… who just happened to steal the woman your lord desired?"
A chill swept through the clearing.
"Shut up!" Orion barked. His voice thundered like a crack of lightning. "And get ready to make this place your grave, Elias!"
In a blur, Orion's hands snapped into motion.
Hand seals.
Fast. Precise. Ruthless.
The moment the final seal was completed, the sword impaled in the tree ripped free with a shriek of metal and shot through the air, straight into Orion's hand.
Elias reacted instantly. His own blade flashed upward, ready in a breath. Both men surged forward as their bodies ignited with raw energy.
Orion's aura erupted in deep crimson, fiery and violent, flaring outward like a blaze barely held in check.
Elias's power responded in turn, cool, fluid, and sharp. A wave of glimmering water-blue light swirled around him, wrapping his form like armor made of flowing steel.
The clearing trembled beneath them.
Their standoff shattered.
And the fight was about to begin!